Fated
by Hanako A
Summary: Hermione has always thought of herself as a rational creature. However the magic of her blood won't be denied, and there's nothing she can do to stop her fall.
1. Prologue

**Fated: Prologue  
**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR. Also my thanks goes out to Snowe for all her suggestions on how to improve this chapter.

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There was something strange about the child called Hermione Granger. She had always known that. She knew that she was different from her cousins, although she didn't know why, and she knew the accidents that happened around her constantly weren't normal. She didn't like those accidents very much or the feeling that she didn't belong. Later on in life, she discovered these accidents were due to her magic flaring to life. While she was grateful to finally have an explanation that made sense, she still couldn't look back fondly on all her magical mishaps as a child. The only ones she was fond of were those that traced back to that one bright summer day when she was a young girl of four.

It was summer, and summer was a time when her parents took her places. The summer when she was four was like no other, however. Rather than her parents taking her anywhere special, there was only an extended trip to the countryside. All of her mother's relatives were gathered at her parents' house, and she was introduced to many of her cousins for the first time there.

Hermione had grown tired of the extended visit very early on. None of her cousins liked her very much. It seemed that their first instinct was to be cruel to her, the way only young children could be. They mocked her for her overly-large teeth and took turns pulling her hair. Such teasing tended to lead to disastrous consequences for them however. It had not taken long for all her cousins to learn to avoid her. She was never invited to play with them, which was fine with her. She knew perfectly well what they called her when the grown-ups couldn't here. She didn't want anything to do with snotty-nosed brats who thought she was a freak.

Instead she retreated to the library. For a couple of weeks, she was happily ensconced there and working her way through the books. However, shortly after making it her sanctuary, she was tossed out of there by her mother and her siblings. "Go outside and play like your cousins," she would say before turning to talk in hushed tones to the rest of the adults. None of them ever paid much attention to her that summer, not even her mother or her father. She knew something was wrong with her grandmother, and that something was why her parents had continued to stay here instead of returning back home to their fledgling dental practice.

So she took to wandering about outside, using all caution to avoid her troublesome cousins. It was deathly dull to be alone without even a book as a companion. She had been able amuse herself at first by pretending she was an explorer of sorts. For awhile that had been great fun. She had discovered several odd stones, one which she thought looked like a dragon and that she tried to take home, but couldn't. She had spied countless small animals, mainly rabbits and squirrels, but most of them had run away at the mere sight of her. She had even encountered a snake once, a small garden snake that could do her no harm. She had tried to catch it, thinking if she came home with it then maybe her parents would start to pay more attention to her instead of her boring grandmother. However, it had been too quick and she had returned home empty handed, much to her dismay. After a couple weeks of such play, she grew tired of it all and longed to go back home.

There seemed to be nothing good about that summer. However, she was proven wrong on one bright August day.

Hermione had set out exploring shortly after breakfast. The mood in the house had become even gloomier the past couple of days, and for once, she didn't have to be encouraged to go and play outside. The house seemed to be so dark, despite it being high summer. She chose a familiar route, deciding to make her way east to the hill where she had found several odd stones before returning home. Halfway there, however, she stumbled across a clearing she had never seen before. In the very center of the clearing was the largest tree she had ever seen.

"Wow." Her jaw hung open as she looked up, trying to see the top of the tree. She could not. Briefly she wondered how she could have missed seeing this tree from her window in the bedroom she shared with her parents. Closing her mouth, she ran towards the tree and hugged the trunk, its rough wood feeling warm against her bare arms. They barely covered a fraction of the trunk. She grinned widely, mentally congratulating herself for being right. She _had _never been in the presence of a larger tree.

"I wonder how long it took you to grow this big," she told it cheerfully. "You're truly the mightiest oak I've ever seen."

A peal of laughter sounded from beside her, startling Hermione, who thought she was alone. Jumping, she turned to her side and saw a young woman, decked out in flowing robes of white and green, smiling merrily at her. "My tree is no oak, child, but an ash," the woman told Hermione gently.

Hermione looked up at the tree again. "I thought oak trees were the largest," she told the woman primly. While she had never read up on the subject, she felt that she could rely upon the experience of all her four years and that told her that oaks were larger than all other trees.

"Perhaps a common oak is larger than a common ash. My tree can hardly be considered common, however. I have been told that Yggdrasil herself was an ash much like this one," the lady calmly replied.

Hermione had no idea what the woman was talking about, but she filed her words in the back of her mind, planning to look up what they were later. Something was off about this strange lady. "Who are you?" asked the young girl suspiciously.

"No one who means any harm to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course the strange lady would say something like that. It did feel like the truth, however. Somehow she got the sense that the woman felt benevolent towards her and wasn't going to harm her in any way, even though she had nothing concrete to base that judgment on.

"No, no, it is very much the truth. Why would I want to harm my own granddaughter?"

Hermione froze. "My grandmother is back at her house," she said stiffly. She surreptitiously glanced around, getting ready to run.

"Your grandmother?" repeated the woman, cocking her head to one side as though confused. "I'm sorry, child. I thought you were Elizabeth's daughter, Helen."

"Helen is my mother," said Hermione. She too was now confused. Perhaps the lady did know her family, seeing how she knew the names of both Hermione's mother and grandmother. "Elizabeth is my grandmother, and she's not doing well," she added.

"That long has it been?" the lady murmured to herself. "No wonder that I've been all but forgotten." She sighed. "I would have never expected that it would take this long. But perhaps I should have expected this, considering my mate was a Muggle. The magic of my line has been hidden for so long, and I am lucky its first witch is also its first blossom."

Hermione ignored the strange lady's words. Clearly the lady was not all there, and that was why she was talking to herself using such nonsensical words. She turned her attention back to the tree, marveling it once more. Hermione placed her hand on its trunk and she sensed that it was overjoyed to see her.

"No, not _it _but _she_ rather," the lady said, standing directly behind her. She laid her hand on the trunk right next to Hermione's. "Her heart and mine are one and the same, and we share the same duty. I would not have lingered so long after my love had passed away if it weren't for her. I could not leave her behind any more than I could have turned my back on him and done as my family asked." She smiled as she bent down so she was level with Hermione. With a flourish, she cupped her hands together and then opened them once more. Hermione gasped. In the middle of the woman's hands was a necklace that hadn't been there before.

"Take it," said the woman. "It's yours."

Hermione shook her head no. "I'm not supposed to take anything from strangers," she said. Her hands itched to reach for the necklace, but she fought that feeling. Her parents would be livid if they knew she had accepted such a gift from a total stranger, even if that stranger did seem to be acquainted with her mother's family.

The woman smiled. "But I'm not giving anything to you. This is yours. It always has been and always will." She offered it again, and this time Hermione couldn't not resist the tug she felt towards the trinket. She slowly examined the necklace. It was very simple in design, a thin silver chain with a smooth stone as its pendant. Without thinking, she unfastened the clasp. She was able to put it on and redo the clasp easily. It was almost as though the necklace wanted for her to wear it.

"That's good." The woman was still smiling but now it seemed sad. "You are a lady of the forest, my child, its guardian. This is your connection to it, and you must keep this safe." The woman gently tugged upon the necklace, but it held fast. "Good. It shan't be taken off, not until it's time."

"And then what?"

The lady glanced at her tree. "It's not something that can be fully expressed with words. Just know that even with this reflection of your heart, you are still not complete. You're very close, but you need your other half. And once you find him..." The lady looked forlornly at her tree. "Forgive me. Even now, it hurts too much to think of all of that I have lost, much less speak about it. When the time comes, you'll know what I can't tell you now. Run along back home, dear one. Your mother is probably very worried for you. Helen always was a fretful child. You had best get back to her for it has become very late."

It was on the tip of Hermione's tongue to refute that but to her surprise when she looked at the sky, the sun was almost setting. "Oh no!" she cried. She ran back to her grandparents' house, without sparing a single glance for the woman she had met in the clearing. Her mother was waiting outside the front door, pacing back and forth as she wrung her hands. She flew across the room to hug her daughter once she saw her. It wasn't until much later that Hermione was roundly scolded for staying out so late. However nothing was said of her new necklace.

The rest of the summer flew by after that. Her mother insisted on Hermione staying by her side, saying that she couldn't trust the young girl to play outside by herself any more. Hermione was happy to stay inside with her mother and returned to reading as many books she could from the library. Three weeks later, they returned home, her parents unable to stay away from their practice any longer. Hermione soon relegated her memory of the strange lady to the back of her mind, choosing to focus on learning as much as she could about everything instead.

However, once in a while, when she was alone at home in the back garden, she would finger the necklace that still laid around her neck. She could almost believe that she could hear the trees whispering amongst themselves, promising one another that they would watch over her while she was still young. It was magic; she knew it and she reveled in it. Nothing her parents said ever convinced her otherwise. While the accidents that happened around her could be explained away, this was too real for her to ever ignore.

She was proven right in the summer of her twelfth year, when her family was visited by Minerva McGonagall. The kind old lady informed them all that Hermione was a witch. Though her parents were surprised, Hermione took it all in stride. She had known, all along, that she was different, and she thought that this explained it all.

Learning that she was a witch didn't explain the necklace that still hung in place around her neck. However, she remained ignorant of this fact for a couple more years. Eventually she learned just what the strange lady had been. Eventually she thought to ask her mother about her grandmother's grandmother, and she came to understand that she was no mere witch. No, she could never be called that, and she was busier than ever after learning the secret of her lineage. She did her best to master ordinary magic as well as the power that had skipped so many generations to flower once more in her.

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Hermione absently brushed her hands against the trunks of the trees she passed. _Oak, pine, yew, sycamore, and then pine again_, she thought. She recognized them not by sight, as it was the night was pitch black, but by touch. They were mostly pines, but they all did as she bid and cleared a path for her through the Forbidden Forest.

She hadn't been able to communicate as well with her friends when she had been here last year. She and Harry had come so close to being attacked by the centaurs themselves. That should have never happened. They should have been perfectly safe in the middle of a forest. Over the summer, she had devoted herself to improving her skills. She no longer needed to hold her pendant in her hands to gauge the forest's emotions. She could find that out simply by standing still and listening. She had asked them directly where the herd currently was, and the trees acting as one were leading her towards them.

_And this time, they will keep me safe_. Her connection with the forest was stronger this year and would ensure that. It hadn't been easy learning that she wasn't just human, but a witch. Likewise she was having trouble coming to grips that she wasn't just a witch, but a dryadmeant to act as a voice for the forest. That much, at least, was clear though. It was hard to find anything in the library about the subject. Sometimes she felt as though she was just stumbling about in the dark when it came to controlling her powers. _I wish I had more time back then. I should have asked more questions, demanded that she give me better answers. _

She sighed. Unfortunately, she could no longer go back and ask all of her questions. Hermione had asked her mum about her grandparents' old place, but evidently it had been sold after her grandmother had passed away. Her mum had gone on to say that a rogue lightning strike had started a fire through the woods out back, and the house had ultimately burned down as well. It wasn't the response Hermione had been hoping for.

_How much further?_ she asked silently. The answer came from every direction that it wasn't far. Hermione reached for her wand to reassure herself that it was still in place. She didn't want to take any chances. She knew that the forest would protect her, but she wanted to be able to defend herself with her own magic if the need arose. She wasn't going to be much of a guardian if she couldn't at least do that. She took a deep breath and then continued to follow along the path the forest was making.

Suddenly the branch of a pine to the right of her bent down sharply, deflecting an arrow shot straight at Hermione. Whirling around, she peered through the darkness, trying to make out just where the arrow had come from. She had no success. "Show yourselves," she commanded with confidence.

"Ha! The human child thinks that we centaurs listen to the likes of her," a mocking voice called out.

She raised herself to her full height, silently cursing the fact that she wasn't very tall at all. "Have it your way then. You'll find no cover here," she told the speaker haughtily. She mentally commanded the forest to move away from the centaurs so that they could no longer hide in the brush. In a moment's time, she was able to see the group of five centaurs who had fired upon her.

"A spell!" hissed a dark centaur who Hermione remembered from last year's confrontation with Umbridge. He pulled another arrow from his quiver and aimed at her. "How dare you use your magic to affect the forest so!"

She merely cocked an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. "I used no magic," she said. "I simply asked them to move and they did." She smiled and laid a hand upon the tree closest to her. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Used no magic?" the centaur echoed. "Then how—"

Just then one of his companions uttered a cry as realization dawned across his face. "No mere witch is she," he said. "Can you not feel how the forest reacts to her? She's a dryad." He lowered his bow, and the rest slowly followed his example.

The dark centaur sniffed haughtily. "You may be right," he said, "but she's young and not matured, no match for the last lady who reigned here."

"True," the other centaur agreed. "And as such, she cannot give lasting orders. But the forest will protect her, nonetheless, until she's grown and has found her mate. Trying to harm her is folly." He looked towards Hermione. "But any more than that is not forthcoming. We would have to honor the wishes of a mature dryad, ere we lose our home, but a youngling like yourself cannot expect the same."

The centaurs melted into the forest before Hermione could say a word or ask the trees around them to block their way. She wanted to chase after them, asking what they knew about dryads. Clearly they knew more than her—they mentioned how she was not fully developed and had yet to find a mate. But it was getting light, and she had to get back to Hogwarts before she was discovered missing. She sighed, then asked the trees of the forest to guide her back home.

But though they had been cryptic, she was still able to focus her research a bit more the next morning. In the past, Hermione had generally read up on what her powers were and how to control them. She had ignored the sections in her books referring to how dryads matured. The next evening she went back to peruse those sections, blushing mightily through some of the more graphic descriptions offered therein. But once she was finished, she knew a bit more about what it meant to be a dryad and what the centaurs had meant.

Every dryad, it seemed, had her own mate. While she would not die if she failed to find him, she still needed him to complete her. She wouldn't mature in her powers, nor would she be able to ever have any children, unless she bonded with him. This was a rather unexpected setback for Hermione. She hadn't thought to look in these sections, given their rather graphic nature, but it was obvious that she would never have the sort of control she needed to ward the Forbidden Forest from Death Eaters until she not only found her mate, but bonded with him as well.

She blushed at that thought. She was still too young for something like that, she believed. From the various descriptions, it was clear that the bonding ritual also had a good deal of magic in it—the sort of magic that dealt with fertility. Her cheeks burned even more as she recalled the details she had learned. No, she definitely did not think she was ready for something that permanent.

Of course, it wasn't as though it really mattered. She didn't even know who her mate was, after all. The books had all went on about how a dryad was naturally attracted to her mate and how he caught her attention like no other man. She couldn't think of anyone like that. At first she had thought maybe Ron, but she had soon ruled him out. She could ignore him whenever she felt like that, particularly when he was being obnoxious. Evidently, a dryad couldn't ignore her mate, no matter how hard she tried.

Hermione sighed and gathered up her books, deciding she might as well go to the Great Hall to get some breakfast. Her powers wouldn't be as much use to Harry as she had hoped. She paused for a minute, thinking of her friend, and then sighed. No, she didn't think Harry was it, either. Which was good, in its own way, because she knew that Ginny had been in love with him for a long time. She would have hated to be in competition with the other witch for Harry. Especially as Hermione knew that she would lose. While she wasn't a troll, she simply wasn't as striking as Ginny.

Hermione walked downstairs, feeling resigned. There was no hope for it. She probably hadn't even met her mate yet. The books had made it clear that once a dryad laid eyes upon her mate, she was drawn to him and was always seeking his attention. She could feel his pain and his strong emotions even before they were bonded. There simply was no wizard in the entire school like that for Hermione. That too was just as well, she thought. She didn't think she was ready.

A shock of white hair caught her eye as she entered the Great Hall. She peered over at the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy had decided to make an appearance today. He sitting off to one end by himself and looking paler than usual. Hermione shook her head as she walked to her own House's table. Both Harry and Ron thought that Malfoy was up to no good these days, and she certainly understood why. He had been acting suspiciously lately. Still something told her that the boy wasn't as evil the way her friends believed he was; that was more the influence of his environment than anything else. There was no way she would ever be able to convince her boys of that fact though.

Boys were just stubborn like that.

She pushed thoughts of Malfoy out of her head and instead focused on looking over her Transfiguration essay one last time before she turned it in. Over the next several weeks, she lost herself in her schoolwork, deciding to concentrate on that since she would be unable to use her other powers effectively for some time to come. For all intents and purposes, she almost forgot about what she had learned about dryads and their mates.

That changed late one spring evening.

Having just returned from studying downstairs, she was in the midst of getting ready for bed. Suddenly she gasped and fell to her knees, clutching at her chest. It burned painfully, and it felt as though someone had tried to slash it open. She took a shuddering breath, then looked down at her chest. There was no blood. That surprised her. Both her heart and her chest ached so much that she ought to be bleeding profusely.

"Hermione?" Lavender asked from behind her. "Are you all right?"

Hermione tried to answer, but found that she couldn't. It was all she could do to breathe. She blinked away the tears that had sprung in her eyes and tried once more to speak. "Yes," she gasped out. "Just a bit dizzy, that's all."

Her two roommates exchanged doubting glances. "You don't look that well," said Parvati. "I think we should take you to see Madam Pomfrey."

"No!" Hermione would have said more but it had become even harder to breathe. Merlin, it was becoming hard to see as black spots were appearing before her eyes. "I'm fine," she repeated herself. "I just need to rest." Deep down, she knew that Hogwarts' medi-witch couldn't do anything to help her.

Neither Lavender or Parvati looked as though they were inclined to believe her. "All right then," Parvati said finally. "We'll help you into bed." The two of them stepped forward on either side of Hermione and helped her to her feet. With their aide, she was able to transverse the short space that separated her from her bed.

"If you're not feeling well by morning though we'll take you to the hospital wing," Lavender added.

"I'm positive I'll be better by then." Hermione closed her eyes. Maybe she would get better if she couldn't notice how her vision was being affected. It seemed to work. She could breathe more steadily now, and she silently vowed to recover before Lavender could make good on her threat.

Hermione didn't want any help from the witch who all but stole Ron away from her. No matter that Hermione had decided that she really wasn't all that into her gangly best friend. She still didn't like losing at anything, even if she didn't care all that much for the prize.

That night seemed to last several lifetimes to Hermione. She would have random episodes of pain so intense that it was all she could do to maintain consciousness. Slowly, however, the pain receded and those spasms became less and less frequent. By the time the sun finally rose, she was feeling more like her old self again. Though rather grouchy and sleep-deprived from whatever had happened last night, she was able to form coherent thoughts again, and that was what really mattered.

Unfortunately for her, that didn't last for too long. A little bit after she met up with her friends, Harry admitted that he had at least a dozen detentions for what he had done to Malfoy last night. She gasped as Harry described what had gone on. It was unfathomable. It just couldn't be.

But if her friend was to be believed, evidently he had cursed Malfoy around the same time Hermione was afflicted by that strange attack.

Hermione could hear herself speaking but she didn't know what she was saying. Her body was operating on auto-pilot as her mind rushed to examine the consequences. She came to the same conclusion again and again, no matter how many times she tried to find an alternate that fit all the facts.

Draco Malfoy was her mate.

It made perfect sense. That would explain why she was in so much pain the evening before; she had been suffering from the aftereffects of Harry's attack on him. And Malfoy had always drawn her eye ever since she met him on the Hogwarts Express while searching for Neville's toad. She had told herself it was because he was her enemy that it was best for her to keep her eye on that, but if she was being honest with herself, it was more than that. She had never believed that he was all that bad unlike her best friends. And he had always been able to affect her. She still remembered how she missed one class back in third year because she was so consumed with thinking about him. It made so much sense that she couldn't believe that she hadn't figured it out before this.

She cried herself to sleep that night. Fate was cruel, and it had doomed her to a lifetime of loneliness. Her mate had turned out to be the last wizard on earth who would accept her. Hermione knew that Malfoy despised her for being a Muggle-born. There was no way he would agree to bond with her. He probably wouldn't even want her to touch him, not wanting for her to contaminate him with her filthy self.

She turned over and hugged her pillow. Fate _was_ cruel, but Hermione would survive. She would be lonely forever and would never have full control of her powers but she would still live. And that would have to be enough. For she would have her pride, even if she couldn't have her man.

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**Author's note:** Thanks for reading! Please review. I really want to know what you think of this fic. ;)


	2. Chapter 1

**Fated: Chapter One**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

_The sun was starting to make a real nuisance of itself, with its rays incessantly falling down on her eyes. With a moan, she flipped over and buried her head in her pillow. However, that only led to another, more welcome distraction. Warm, soft lips trailed up the nape of her neck up to that spot behind her ear. Unbidden she emitted a soft sigh before a happy smile crossed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked up at her lover through veiled lashes._

"_Good morning," she whispered._

_He smirked at her. "Oh it will be," he promised as his silver eyes filled with passion. She squealed with delight as he reached out an arm to draw her to him and then—_

She woke up. To a sun-filled room that was exactly like the one in her dream with one major difference—he wasn't there.

"Damn it," she swore. Groggily she stumbled out of bed. She shook her head from side to side, trying to get rid of the images from that oh-so-tempting dream. _Bad enough that my mate winds up being Malfoy,_ she thought. _But honestly! Constant dreams to remind me of that fact and how happy I'll be once we're together? I _really _don't need them, really I don't._

Hermione made her bed before walking over to her closet to lay out her clothes for the day. She then ducked into the kitchen to start a pot of tea and some toast. Her breakfast started, it was back to her bathroom for a quick shower. While washing her hair, her thoughts wandered back to her blasted dream and how completely unfair it was for Malfoy to be her mate.

_I'd like to have a word with whoever decided that!_ she thought indignantly. _I can't say how compatible we are, mainly because he's so unobtainable. It's blatant that fate or whoever or whatever never bothered to take into consideration the practicality of the relationship ever happening. I would have liked it if it would. Maybe then...well maybe then I wouldn't have been doomed to such a lonely life._

She cast a drying charm on herself after she stepped out of her shower. Then she went back into her room to get dressed. Once that task was complete, it was on to the daily chore of trying to figure out what to do with her hair. Not wanting to spend too much time on it today, she decided just to put it up in a French twist. She peered at herself in the mirror—which wasn't magical because she couldn't deal with those awful things and their cutting remarks—and was satisfied with how she looked. She looked very presentable, and that was a good thing.

Now that she was ready to go to work, she finally had time to eat breakfast and read the paper when it came in. She shuffled over to her kitchen. Reaching into her cupboard, she took out a plate and a cup. She poured the tea into her cup, happily noting that the warming charm on the pot had done the trick. _No cold tea for me today. That's a lovely thing. The best thing that's happened to me all morning, in fact._

She placed the two pieces of toast on her plate. With her plate in one hand and her cup in the other, she gingerly walked over to her table, not wanting to spill any tea on herself or drop her breakfast. She carefully placed her food on the table, then pulled out a chair. She smiled happily as she sat down. Being able to eat breakfast without something happening to her was, sadly enough, a major accomplishment these days. _That's probably because those damn dreams always leave me feeling so muddled and confused. Not to mention embarrassed. Honestly! Could they be any more cliché? Whoever is writing my dreams has got to lay off the bad romance novels and quick._

She bit into her toast, absently wondering where the morning paper could be. As though her thoughts summoned it, mere seconds later the owl bearing the _Daily Prophet_ arrived, settling on her table with a soft swoosh of its feathers.

It was later than it usually was, but then she never had the heart to complain for she knew the owl who delivered her paper was rather elderly. Hermione dropped her toast on its plate and stood up so she could retrieve a couple owl treats. She offered them to the owl, who took them gratefully before flying off. She settled back into her seat, looking forward to a relaxing breakfast spent reading the paper.

Then she caught sight of the front page. Unconsciously her fingers twitched.

She scowled and reached for the paper. She tried to ignore the photo plastered over the front page but found that she couldn't. Against her will, she found her gaze lingering on the wizard featured front and center in the picture. Her hands twitched involuntarily once more as the tart next to him leaned over to kiss him.

With a low growl, she tore into the paper, almost ripping the front page apart in her rush to get to a different section. There were some things that she just did _not _want to see. Seeing Malfoy's latest fling wrap herself all over him was near the top of the list.

_It's not fair. First the dream and now this!_ she thought to herself for what must have been the hundredth time. Ever since she had figured out just who her mate was, she had railed against the unfairness of it all. _This whole damn situation is so unfair. Bad enough that the wizard fated for me can't stand to be in the same room as me. No, he just also had to have this awful knack of getting himself in the papers at least once a week—and that's usually because they're speculating who he's seeing now!_

She balled up the paper and tossed it away from her. That one photo had simply ruined her morning, now that she had seen him and the way Daphne Greengrass was getting close to him. She savagely bit into her toast, washing it down with tea that had gone cold.

_Enough_. _I've been down this path before. I know where it goes. I am not going to obsess over what I can't have. It's better to concentrate on what I can do. _She frowned. _And to think that I felt so sorry for him back then! He certainly has recovered nicely from his ordeal, the bloody flirt. And of course he's never ever bothered to thank me or even acknowledge me. Harry yes—though it was only that once and in a sort of backhanded way—but me? Never._

She sighed. Somehow the more things changed, the more they did stay the same. Malfoy was still the same bigot he was in school and so hadn't bothered to give her even the smallest of thanks for the way she had stood up for him that day. If it wasn't for her, he would be rotting in Azkaban right now rather than being the damn man whore that he was. _He might be a man whore in a different sense however_, she thought suddenly and then grimaced. Thinking of him suffering like that brought her no pleasure.

Which was why she hadn't had much choice when it came to defending him all those years ago. She hadn't really been thinking all that much when she had stood up in front of the entire Wizengamot to speak on his behalf, arguing that he had been a mere child in the worst of circumstances. Immediately after she had said her bit, Harry had begrudgingly stood up to back her up. Ron had been livid with them for weeks, but he had eventually got over it all.

_Of course, that put the final nail in the coffin when it came to our relationship, _she reflected. _Just as well, I suppose. It couldn't have gone anywhere anyway. _Furiously she wiped away the tears that always had the gall to show up whenever she thought about how lacking her love life was. It was disheartening to know that she was doomed to be alone forever. _Enough, enough. I can't let one stupid photo or one stupid, stupid dream affect me this much. Who cares what that bastard does? I certainly don't!_

She nodded her head decisively but inside she knew she was lying. In reality, her problem was that she cared all too much about Malfoy, while he didn't give a damn about her.

Thankfully, when she got to work, she saw neither hide nor hair of Malfoy. Hermione truly loved her job at the International Magical Office of Law. Her best friends could never understand how she could stand to be relegated to what they saw as a desk job and often asked why she didn't become follow their path and work as an Auror. However, she liked how much freedom she had in her position to change the rule of law in the Wizarding World. She liked the fact that her position allowed her to be a guardian of the forest and its inhabitants, like all dryads should be. It afforded her the opportunity to live up to her duty as a dryad, despite the fact that she knew she could never attain her full power.

The only real drawback, as she saw it, was the fact that Malfoy had the annoying tendency to show up at the Ministry. It seemed like he always had a reason to be skulking around. She sighed. It got very tiresome how he was constantly underfoot _everywhere_, trying to influence Ministry policy for his own benefit, to the point that she was seeing him at least twice a week, every week. Her poor heart didn't need that sort of aggravation. Her only consolation was the fact that whenever he visited her department, his opinions coincided with hers, more often than not. It had been a very shocking experience for her the first time she had found out that he supported her views on the preservation of magical forests. It only later dawned on her that his views were informed by the fact that there was a substantial amount of wooded lands near his family's ancestral home. That was just as well, for as painful as it was to have him so close so often, it would have been worse for her if they had been openly at odds with one another over matters in her department.

But today, it seemed as though fate decided to cut her a break, which she completely deserved after how her breakfast was ruined this morning. Scratch that, her entire morning routine had been ruined, not just her breakfast. But not only did Malfoy not curse her with his presence, she didn't even hear a whisper of his name or any of the latest gossip attached to it. That was truly a miracle, for which she was grateful. So it was she was able to happily concentrate on her work.

She hummed to herself as she went through the paperwork that had once again multiplied during the night. There were drawbacks to working in a magical office, one of which was that documents tended to breed. No matter how much headway she made during the day, if she left even a single scrap of parchment on her desk when she went home at night, she would return the next morning to see another healthy stack of paperwork adorning her desk. More than once she was tempted to incinerate the stack, to set an object lesson of sorts.

She sighed. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that. She didn't even want to think about what people would say if she did. It was hard enough for a Muggle-born witch to get a decent job at the Ministry already. The last thing she wanted to do was to set a bad example.

So instead of starting a merry bonfire on top of her desk, she got back to work and tackled the heap of parchment currently adoring it. She methodically made her way through it all, only stopping once to frown at an especially egregious proposal to hack away at some of the oldest woods in all of Britain for the sake of making a few dozen racing brooms. With a roll of her eyes, she quickly denied that one, taking care to point out all of the proposal's flaws as she did so. A little over half of the applications and proposals on her desk met the same fate, and before she knew it, it was already time for lunch.

She packed up her desk, efficiently putting away all her things in order. She stood up and grabbed her bag. With one last final look at her desk—and a silent prayer that more paperwork wouldn't greet her when she returned—she set off for Diagon Alley.

For the last several weeks, Hermione had been toying with the idea of getting a new kitten, a replacement of sorts for Crookshanks. It had been over two years since Crookshanks had finally passed away. She thought that she was as ready as she would ever be for a new cat in her life. Besides it was lonely to come home with no one to greet her. Her flat seemed so large and empty on those nights she stayed home alone, which was more often than not. While she might not ever have her mate—she grimaced to herself and corrected that 'might not' to 'would not'—a new kitten would be good company for her.

She had been meaning to go to Magical Menagerie to find one for quite some time, but somehow she always wound up being too tired to do anything after work except return home and crash. She had come to the conclusion that if she was ever going to get a new pet, then it would probably be best for her to go during her lunch time.

Of course if she picked up a new companion during her lunch break, she would either have to go home early or bring it with her to work, because she didn't want to leave her hypothetical new familiar alone in her flat right after getting it. She didn't really have the time to take off, seeing how busy she was, and so she had arranged with her boss for her to keep her new familiar in her office. That request had turned out very well; not only did her boss give her permission to bring her new kitten with her after buying it, he had also told her that she could keep it there for the first week or two so long as she didn't let it out of her office. She couldn't help but feel happy at that thought.

_More proof that I've been alone for too long. I suppose I should've got a new kitten sooner, but oh well. _There was a spring to her step as she navigated through the halls of the Ministry to nearest Apparation chamber. She fixed her destination clearly in her mind and then Apparated.

She arrived near Gringotts in Diagon Alley. She took a moment to get her bearings, just to make sure she had arrived where she had intended to. Seeing that she had, she immediately set off towards Magical Menagerie. Now that she had managed to get everything arranged, she was eager to pick out her new familiar.

Hermione nodded to the old witch at the till as she entered the shop. She didn't need to stop and ask where the kittens where; her ears could pick up their mews. She stopped in front of their crate and beamed. The kittens were all absolutely adorable. There was a handful of them romping around and having fun. She watched their antics, trying to decide which one would come home with her. There were two ginger kittens that she immediately discounted. They would remind her too much of Crookshanks and so invite comparisons to him. That wouldn't be fair to them. She looked to and fro before deciding on a gray little moggy whose coat reminded her of someone she could never have. She reached into the crate with her hand to pick up that kitten, thinking that it would suit her quite well. However, before she could do so, a small shadow separated itself from the wall and pounced on her hand.

"Ow!" she exclaimed as she drew back her hand. She looked down to see what had attacked her. A small black kitten was staring up at her with an intelligent expression in its eyes, as if daring her to try again. Its fur was as dark as night, and even now she had to concentrate in order to see it for otherwise it would blend in with the shadows once more. She tried shifting in the direction of the grey kitten, but the black kitten's eyes followed her every move.

"Let me guess. You're not going to let me take any of your friends home. All right then, how about if I pick you?" she asked it. It cocked its head to one side. She could have sworn that it was having an internal debate about whether or not to accept her offer. Finally it nodded its head, awfully solemnly for such a young thing, indicating that it would lay aside its kitty pride and go home with her.

Hermione smiled back at the small kitten. "Excellent." She reached down and picked the kitten up, absently taking note of the fact that it was a she. "I think you and I will get along smashingly well," she said. Cradling the kitten in her arms, she made her way back to the front of the shop. She gently scratched behind the kitten's ears, who purred happily in response. She had just reached the front of the shop again when she was stopped in her tracks by a high-pitched screech.

"I don't believe this! That's the kitten I want!" cried Daphne Greengrass. Before Hermione could react, the Slytherin witch had walked right up to her, a sneer on her face. "Give it over here! I saw him first!"

"Hello to you too, Greengrass," said Hermione. Her fingers twitched, and a fleeting thought crossed her mind of how lovely it would be to hex the tart away. Somehow she resisted that urge. "It's funny how you still don't know the difference between boys and girls. Tell me, did your parents forget to explain all that to you?" Meanwhile the kitten was snarling at the Slytherin witch, her hair raised on end.

Greengrass flushed prettily. "I'm not so vulgar as to personally check that out," she sniffed haughtily. "But that's beside the point. I saw it first!"

"Are you feeling quite all right? Because if I remember correctly—and believe me, I always do—I was here first. I fail to see how you could have seen her first."

The other witch huffed in indignation. "For someone whose reputation solely consists of being clever, you're not at all. Obviously I was here before you, but now I'm back to get my cat."

"Good luck with that. The rest of the kittens are in the back. As for this little darling…she's mine." Hermione smiled down at the kitten, who was continuing to snarl at the other witch. "Go get another one," she stated firmly.

"Oh!" Greengrass stomped her foot, then looked around. "Draco!" she cried. "Get over here! This stupid slag refuses to give me back my kitten!"

It took all of Hermione's will power not to rip out Greengrass' throat as Malfoy drifted up behind the Slytherin witch and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Is there a problem, darling?" he drawled, not even bothering to acknowledge Hermione's presence.

"Yes there is one. I told you we should have come back here right away. But no! You just had to go check out the latest brooms." Greengrass tossed her head back, her blonde hair floating around her like a halo. "Now this wretch has absconded with the kitten I wanted! Make her give it back!"

Malfoy looked down his nose at Hermione and the kitten she held cradled in her arms. Then he looked away. "No," he said firmly.

Hermione's heart just about stopped. She couldn't have heard that correctly. Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly be taking her side over that of his current fling.

Evidently Greengrass couldn't believe it either. "No?" she squawked. "Are you trying to be funny? Because let me tell you, you are failing miserably. Draco Malfoy, you promised to buy me the kitten I wanted. Now I expect you to keep your word."

He looked at the witch at his side through half-closed eyes. "Pick another," he drawled.

Greengrass shook her head from side to side, standing her ground. "I want that one," she said through gritted teeth.

Malfoy sighed elegantly as only he could. "Darling," he said lazily, with a wicked grin on his lips, "are you out of your mind? How could you possibly want any animal that something as muddy as that"—he waved a hand in Hermione's direction, not even bothering to spare her another glance—"has dirtied with her unclean hands. I have every intention of keeping my promise, but I refuse to buy something that has been contaminated by such filth. Who knows what sort of noxious diseases it might bring home?"

Those words just about broke her. Hermione wanted nothing more but to flee the vicinity and lock herself up some place safe where she could have herself a good cry. Malfoy had confirmed all of her worst fears, and she didn't want to linger here any further. But she had her pride and it wouldn't let her take such an insult without retaliating in kind, mate or not.

"By your reasoning, you should have volunteered to rot in Azkaban rather than hide behind my words," she said coldly. "But such is the worth of a Malfoy. Always knowing just how to repay his debts." She held her head high and marched passed the two pure-blood idiots.

"And here I thought you might thank me for your cat," Malfoy's voice floated mockingly after her. She ignored him in favor of paying for her new familiar. Thankfully neither Malfoy nor Greengrass bothered her further. Her day was already ruined from her encounter with them.

Somehow she managed to return to her office without shedding a single tear. It was testament to the fact that she had long given up all hope of ever being united with her mate. Still the way he had so summarily dismissed her as being below him…she furiously wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Malfoy wasn't worth her tears.

As she had feared, the paperwork on her desk had grown more mountainous in her absence but for once she was glad about that fact. She very much wanted to lose herself in her work, to do everything she could to put that awful encounter behind her. Hermione set down her new kitten on the floor after she locked her office door. She went over to the corner of her office where she had stashed her pet supplies. She pulled out a litter box along with a few toys that she tossed the kitten's way. All too predictably her new familiar ignored the toys in favor of exploring her new surroundings. Hermione shook her head, amused by the young cat's antics. She filled up a small water bowl and returned to her desk. Her work beckoned.

Time flew by. Hermione hardly noticed the hours as they whipped by, so engrossed she was in turns by her work and her familiar. She found it astonishing how the kitten could blend in perfectly with the shadows, and just like that, the little kitten had a name. When Shadow wanted to hide, it was literally impossible to find her. Hermione figured that the kitten had to be at least part kneazle to have such a magical ability.

Before Hermione knew it, the sun had set and it was time to go home. She spent several minutes tidying up her desk. She wasn't the sort to like coming in to a mess in the morning. All things considered, it had been a productive day for her. She had finished the two reports that were due early, and so that had left her with a couple hours to spend drafting her next proposal for the department to consider.

Once everything was neat and put away, Hermione turned her attention to the pet supplies strewn about her office. She smiled as she pulled out her wand to send them all over to her flat. She then glanced around for her new familiar. Not catching sight of the young cat, she called out, "Shadow?" A happy purr sounded from her feet. She looked down to see Shadow sitting down next to her. Hermione bent over and picked up her cat. She glanced around one last time before leaving the office.

Upon arriving home, Hermione headed immediately towards the kitchen with Shadow firmly in her arms. She set the kitten down on the floor. Shadow bounced around, curious about her new surroundings, as Hermione searched about for a tin of tuna. She thought that it would be a nice welcome for the young thing. She opened the tin with ease and placed the tuna in a bowl, but before she could pick it up to place on the floor, Shadow leapt on to the countertop in a single, graceful leap.

"Oh!" cried Hermione. She looked at the kitten and then at the floor. "You're certainly athletic," she remarked. "I wouldn't have thought you could make it up this high." She stored that information away in her head. Now that she had another kneazle-mix around, she would have to be careful once more about what she left lying around.

Hermione made herself a cup of tea. Gingerly she carried it over to the table, walking very slowly so she wouldn't spill it on herself. That was the last thing she needed after the day she had. She set it down on the table and then sat down herself. She took several long drinks from her cup, the warmth of the tea soothing her frazzled nerves. It was never easy, having to see Malfoy face to face. It made it harder when he was with another witch for then she had to fight her instincts. But to have to listen to him denigrate her so—it would be heart breaking if her heart hadn't already been shattered.

Hermione thrust those thoughts aside. _Tomorrow will be a better day_, she chanted silently to herself. The afternoon mail on the table caught her eye, and she reached out a hand to draw the small pile to her. It was the usual assortment of stuff. There were a couple bills and her copy of the latest edition of _Potions Monthly_. But at the bottom of the entire pile was something quite unusual—a small, fancy envelope with the address done in elegant calligraphy.

She groaned at the sight of it.

With shaky fingers, Hermione opened the envelope. Inside it was something she had long been dreading, and that was an invitation to Ron's wedding.

She buried her face in her arms on top of the table. She was happy for Ron. She was happy that he had found someone to share his life with. And more than that, she genuinely liked his choice of fiancée. Padma Patil was not only clever, but kind and compassionate, a rare combination of virtues indeed. It was very easy for Hermione to see why Ron had been attracted to the witch. This engagement was a long time coming, and she had expected it for quite some time.

All that aside, she wasn't looking forward to what people would be saying to her about it. Some of her friends, mainly Harry and Neville, would treat her with extra care, worried that she might break at any time if she realized that she had lost Ron for good. Other of her friends, such as Ginny, would look upon this as an opportunity to convince Hermione to start dating again. She was looking forward to neither reaction. However that all paled in comparison to the reception she would receive from Molly Weasley.

Mrs Weasley was going to gloat.

The matriarch of the Weasley clan had never really forgiven Hermione for breaking things off with Ron. The first couple of months after their split, Molly had incessantly nagged Hermione to go and apologize to Ron. Eventually she gave up on that campaign, realizing that Hermione was not to be moved. Ever since then, Mrs Weasley had become increasingly bitter. The last time Hermione had attended a Sunday brunch at the Burrow, Molly had been insufferable. Her rant on how Hermione was going to wind up alone because the younger witch thought herself too good for a decent wizard was only stopped when Harry had finally lost his temper and told the old hag to shut up.

Hermione hadn't bothered to visit the Burrow since then, and her friends understood why. No one pressed her to return. However, inevitably, something for the wedding would be hosted at the Burrow—maybe the bridal shower, maybe the reception. And as Ron was one of her dearest friends, she couldn't very well turn down that invitation. Not that it would do her any good if she did. People would only start gossiping how she was still in love with her best friend.

It was a lost cause.

Hermione lifted up her head. There was no help for it. She would simply have to endure her friends' pity and Mrs Weasley's wrath. At the very least, the wizard she had loved since childhood would be getting his happy ending.

She was very happy that at least one of them was.

****

**Author's note:** My thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review the last time around. It has been forever since I last updated this fic. Sorry for the long wait--I simply was having trouble deciding which plot path to follow. I thought I had decided on this one, which is the shorter fic as well. But the longer, more intricate plot--well it keeps calling to me. So I probably will wind up writing another version of this fic (same first chapter, but everything is different from there) once I finish my other long fic.

As always, reviews would be lovely. :D


	3. Chapter 2

**Fated: Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione darted out of her office and headed towards the lifts. She needed to get home to check on Shadow. However she hadn't got very far before she was stopped.

"Hermione!" called out a very familiar voice. Hermione sighed to herself and turned around to see Ginny Weasley frantically waving at her. The ginger haired witch ran up to her. "Oh thank Merlin," she said. "I thought I might miss you again."

"Again?" Hermione asked. "I wasn't aware you were trying to see me."

"I was here yesterday. Got here too late though as you had already left," Ginny explained. "But no matter. I've found you now. No need to stop." Ginny waved her hand at Hermione to indicate she should start walking again. "Let's go. I've been meaning to go out for lunch with you for the last couple of days. Where do you want to go?"

"Actually I have to get home," said Hermione. "You see, I got a new familiar yesterday, and it's her first day at home by herself so I want to go check on her."

"I didn't know that…." Ginny trailed off. She looked sadly at Hermione, who wanted to roll her eyes. It was evident that Ginny had wanted to see her yesterday to warn her about Ron's engagement. She wanted to snap at the other witch that she had bought Shadow before she had received the invitation, but she held her tongue. Ginny was simply concerned about her because they were friends. That wasn't a bad thing.

Well not entirely. There were times when Ginny could be too nosy. However Hermione supposed you had to take the good with the bad, and there was more good to Ginny than there was bad.

"You can come with me," Hermione suggested. She figured that she might as well speak with Ginny about the subject sooner rather than later. "That is, so long as you don't mind eating whatever I have in my fridge as lunch."

"Oh now that sounds awfully dodgy. Dare I ask when you last visited the grocers?"

"Hmm…I think some time last week maybe?" Hermione laughed at the look of horror on Ginny's face. "No, no. I'm not serious. Even I'm not that bad! I was there just the other day."

"That's what you say. Don't forget I was there when Harry found that horrendously old loaf of bread."

Hermione snorted. "I can't forget that. You two won't let me!"

"Hermione! Not only was it green but it was beginning to grow legs! Harry had to catch the damn thing to throw it away!" Ginny shuddered violently. "Well let's just go over there and hope for the best. Worst case scenario, we'll throw everything out, and I'll drag you to buy fresh groceries later."

"What would I do without you?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know." But Ginny smiled at her, and Hermione couldn't help but smile back. It was times like these that Hermione was glad that she was friends with the other witch. Though Ginny could be unbearable at times, she was the only person who had never tried to convince Hermione to take back Ron. That alone raised her up in Hermione's estimation.

The two of them continued to exchange quips on their way to Hermione's flat, only pausing when they were crammed into the lift together. A mewling kitten greeted them as Hermione opened the door. "There you are, my sweet," she said, bending over to pick Shadow up. She cuddled the kitten's ears. "And how is your first day home alone going?"

"I'll just show myself in to the kitchen, if you don't mind," Ginny said from behind her. She stepped around Hermione and made a beeline towards the kitchen.

Such behavior caused Hermione to raise an eyebrow. "You're not going to even stop to take a look at my new kitten?" she asked. She was a little miffed that her friend couldn't even spare a moment to comment on how cute Shadow was.

"I don't have to stop," Ginny replied airily. "I know that you'll bring her to me, like the proud new mummy you are."

"That's true enough," said Hermione. She trailed after her friend. Upon entering the kitchen, Hermione found that Ginny was already busy taking stock of what food was available and so she set Shadow down next to the fridge. "Well?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

Ginny glanced down. She twitched her nose. "She's nothing like Crookshanks, is she?"

"Really? I didn't notice that myself," Hermione replied drolly.

The younger witch rolled her eyes. "Trust you to be snarky," she muttered. "I said that because I was surprised. I thought you would go for a kitten that reminded you—"

"Of Crookshanks?" Hermione shook her head. "Oh no. The thought did cross my mind but…it wouldn't be fair to the new cat, you see, to burden it with Crookshanks' memory. I don't want to forever be comparing Shadow to Crookshanks."

"Shadow? Is that her name?" Ginny cocked her head to one side and took a long look at the kitten. Then she nodded sharply. "It suits her, it really does. It must be awfully hard to find her when she decides to hide. Almost like trying to find anything that's fit to eat here. Except for the tinned tuna."

"Oh! That's for—"

"The cat. Why am I not surprised?" Ginny lifted her hands up in despair over Hermione's habits before turning her attention back to searching the pantry. "That was probably the whole reason why you went shopping for food recently. Did you even think about getting something for yourself?"

"I did but I got distracted." Which was true. Unfortunately after Hermione had picked up the tuna, she had caught sight of one of the latest gossip rags whose main feature was when Draco Malfoy would propose to his current girlfriend. After that, she had just wanted to leave as soon as she could and so she had cut her trip short. Hermione sighed and shook her head, trying to clear it of such depressing thoughts.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to make good on my threat to take you shopping. Honestly Hermione!" Ginny chewed her lower lip, worried about her friend. "Are you all right? You seem so preoccupied lately. It's not right, how you're not taking care of yourself."

Instantly Hermione felt guilty. She hadn't meant to make any of her friends worry over her. It just seemed that wherever she looked, she was reminded of what she couldn't have. "It's just a phase, I think," she said. She sighed and looked down at her hands. "Everyone seems to be finding their match, while I…well it hasn't quite worked out so well for me. So I'm just a bit sad and lonely, that's all."

"Did you ever consider doing something about that?" asked Ginny wryly. "I'm sorry. It's not that I want to be callous, but I don't know how else to make you realize that you're never going to find someone if you just sit and mope at home."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't," she protested. "Well I don't mope," she amended. "I just like staying at home and reading. I know I'm boring but—"

Ginny waved her silent. "But nothing. And you're not boring." She rolled her eyes. "That's a word I reserve for the likes of Binns, and trust me, none of your lectures have ever put me to sleep."

"I would imagine that's because you tell me to shut up before that actually happens."

"Yes, yes, you're ever so witty. No one can insult yourself quite the way you can. Oh!" Ginny suddenly shrieked.

Her heart rate escalating, Hermione breathlessly asked, "What is it?"

"You'll never guess what I found." Silently Ginny pulled something out from behind a set of canisters.

It was a loaf of bread.

"Oh." Hermione tilted her head. "When did I get that? I don't remember buying it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ginny shook her head sadly. "Oh well. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth and all. Although…."

"What?" Hermione wrinkled her nose, suspicious of what her friend was about to say.

"Doesn't this restore your faith in miracles? I mean an entire loaf of bread in your kitchen that hasn't turned green?" A wide grin covered Ginny's face. "If that's not a miracle, then I don't know what is."

"Remind me why I'm still friends with you?"

Ginny ignored her comment and pressed on. "And think! If such a miracle is possible, then surely there's someone out there who is just perfect for you."

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "I wish it were that easy, Gin," she said softly.

"Oh I never said it was easy, Hermione. Just that…even if you have practically no chance at all, even if the odds are completely against you…if you don't take that chance, if you don't take that leap of faith, then it will never happen. If you want to find that someone, then you need to get out there."

"Preferably before Ron's wedding?"

"I can't get one past you, can I?" Ginny shook her head. "But yes, that would be a good thing, wouldn't it? I'd hate for you to go alone. I mean—"

"I know, Ginny, trust me, I know." Hermione winced as she thought of all the unkind comments Molly would make. But then, there was no way to avoid that. Even if Hermione was with someone at the wedding, the Weasley matriarch was certain to compare her new fling to Ron unfavorably. "I'll think about it," she finally said.

"You should do more than think about it. There are tons of wizards out there dying to have a chance with you."

"Oh really? Funny I haven't noticed that."

That earned her a roll of the eyes from her friend. "That's because no one does oblivious the way you do oblivious, Hermione."

"Not even Harry?"

Ginny paused to consider that. "That's hard to say. The two of you do come awfully close. I guess you're really siblings at heart, if not of blood."

"Yes. I couldn't ask for a better brother," said Hermione. She smiled at that. There were times when she felt depressed over her situation. Too many times seeing how she was surrounded by so many wonderful friends. _I may be doomed to be single, but that doesn't mean I have to be alone. Actually I doubt that's an option. I can't see Harry or Ginny allowing me to wallow in my misery—that's probably why Ginny's here to begin with. Although I would think that Harry would've insisted on coming along._

Suddenly something clicked in her head, and she figured out why Ginny was here without her husband. "So what does Harry think of your plan?"

Ginny blinked. "What plan?"

"Your plan to set me up."

"Um…I don't recall ever offering to set you up," the redhead backpedaled.

Hermione quirked up an eyebrow. "Oh really? And who was it telling me that there are dozens of wizards out there who would die to have a chance with me? Do you mean to say that you had no one in mind when you said that?"

Her friend bit her lip. "If I said no, you wouldn't believe me, would you?"

"Afraid not."

"You know, you really should believe your friends. I mean, it's almost as though you don't trust me."

"Piffle. Those are two entirely different things. Do I trust you? Yes, of course, with my life even. We've been through so much together. But do I believe you that you haven't been scheming about who you could set me up with?" Hermione slowly shook her head from side to side. "Honestly. You can't fool me."

"Oh all right. I have thought of someone to set you up with. Several someones actually, because matchmaking is an art, not a science. However I don't actually have anything planned." Ginny grimaced. "I didn't quite expect you to agree so readily. I suppose I'll have to get on that," she muttered under her breath. Then her demeanor brightened. "But who knows? Maybe that'll be unnecessary."

"Oh?"

Ginny smirked wickedly. "Oh yes. Perhaps you'll find your perfect man when we go shopping for food tonight."

Hermione bit her tongue. She knew that wasn't going to happen, but there was no need to say that out loud. She had never revealed her heritage to any of her friends, mainly because she was afraid that would lead to probing questions as to the identity of her mate. And she didn't really need any of them to know how hopeless her case was. It was better for them to think that she had just not found her perfect someone, rather than be the subject of pitying glances all the time. So she agreed with Ginny, and the two friends turned to the task of making lunch out of the scant food available at her flat.

* * *

"You know, this whole concept of meeting someone while we're out grocery shopping? I think it might go a bit better without Harry tagging along," suggested Hermione _sotto voce_ to Ginny.

"Trust me, I know," the other witch replied through gritted teeth. She sighed, then called out to Harry in a sweet voice. "Harry, could you be a dear and get us some more tins of tuna? I don't think we have enough."

Harry's glare flickered over to his wife. "We already have two dozen," he said blandly.

"Yes, but that's just for the cat. Don't you think that we should get a few for Hermione too? Now go on. Shoo. We'll be here when you get back."

Harry grunted in response, obviously not happy at being sent away, but he trod off in search of tuna anyway. As soon as he was out of sight, Ginny's shoulders slumped and she heaved a sigh of relief. "Merlin. I don't know what I was thinking when I let him know about this expedition of ours. I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not upset." Truth be told, Hermione was more amused than annoyed with the whole situation. She might have found Harry's behavior aggravating if she was actually trying to find a wizard for her, but she knew better than that. Besides it was obvious that he was being overly protective because he cared for her so much. Because of it, she had no reason at all to be upset with him.

"You're not, are you?" Ginny sighed yet again. "I'm afraid that's part of the problem. You should be absolutely livid with him for thinking that you can't take care of yourself."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps. But you must admit, Gin, that we've haven't run into anyone with potential."

"That's because Harry keeps scaring them off. But maybe our luck will change now that I've sent him away."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I hate to break this to you, but something tells me he'll be back sooner than you think."

A furtive look appeared on Ginny's face. "And that's why we're not going to be here. Come on, Hermione. We need to get some milk." She began pushing the trolley towards the dairy section at a fast clip, not bothering to look to see if the other witch was keeping up. Hermione almost had to break out into a jog in order to keep up with her friend for Ginny was several inches taller than her.

"Would it kill you to slow down?" Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"No. But that would mean Harry might get back in time to follow us. This way we'll have more time away from him and his glare of doom."

"You do realize who you're talking about, right? He's going to find us eventually."

"Yes, but there's no reason why eventually can't be later rather than sooner," Ginny retorted in whispered tones. She glared at the brunette witch. "Not that you're being much help with that. Honestly! You're just as bad as he is. And here I thought you were willing to let me set you up with someone so you wouldn't have to go to Ron's wedding alone!"

Hermione sighed. The other witch had a point. She had agreed to Ginny's idea, but here she was hardly helping. "I know, I know. It's just…old habits die hard, you know?"

"Good. Now go get some milk!"

"Pardon?" Hermione had thought that the last thing Ginny would do was send her away as well.

"You heard me. Get some milk. You're out, in case you've forgotten. And that'll give me some time to assess the meat…so to speak." Ginny smirked wickedly, leaving no doubt as to what she meant, and Hermione could feel her cheeks flushing.

"I'll leave you to it then." Hermione hurried away. _Maybe I should've thought everything over a bit more before agreeing to this. I'm not sure I want to know just what she's planning for my love life._

She stopped in front of the dairy section and glared. Of course the milk would be on the top shelf. And of course, the shelf was over half empty with the remaining cartons pushed far back. Sometimes being short was not fun at all. Unfortunately it didn't help at all that they were in a Wizarding shop. The anti-theft charms made it impossible for her to _accio_ a carton.

Hermione glared at the milk several moments longer, then sighed. There was just no help for it. She would simply have to look like a fool. Hopefully there would be no one watching.

Suddenly a shadow hung over her. "Need some help there, oh short one?" a familiar voice sounded from behind her.

"Gah!" she yelped and stumbled backwards. A strong pair of arms steadied her, preventing her from tipping over. Hermione glanced up to see who had snuck up on her. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "What are—"

"What am I doing here?" he finished her question for her. He coughed nervously. "I wouldn't be much of an Auror if I could be fooled so easily. Obviously Ginny wanted to get me away from you so she could work on setting you up."

That explanation seemed too easy. "Is that so?" she asked, arching up an eyebrow.

"Well yes," said Harry. Then he grinned. "Though I must admit, it helps that she talks in her sleep. Awfully hard for her to keep her matchmaking schemes secret from me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "You mean she has more than one?"

"Unfortunately. She seems to have made it her personal mission in life to make sure that all of her friends are matched up happily."

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "The way you put it…it makes me fear to ask what her success rate has been."

"Better than you think," he replied. Then he looked at her sharply. "Though I was surprised to learn that you had agreed to her plan." He paused, a pensive look covering his face as he considered his next words. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I feel like I've been a horrible friend. I never realized that you're that desperately lonely."

"I'm not," she said. "Not really." She was quiet for a moment. She had more or less accepted the fact that she'd always be alone with those annoying dreams perhaps being the last vestiges of hope within her. However she didn't think she could say as much to Harry without him worrying about her. So instead she said, "I just told Ginny yes because I thought it would be nice to have someone to bring along to Ron's wedding, that's all."

He gave her a long, searching look. Then he turned back to the shelves. "So you just need one right?" he asked, gesturing towards the milk.

She was caught by surprise by the sudden change of subject, and so she took a minute to answer. "Best get two," she replied. "Shadow might like some as well."

"All right then." With ease, he reached up and pulled down two cartons of milk.

"Here," said Hermione. "Let me take one of them. I know that must be heavy." The look Harry gave clearly told her what a foolish suggestion he thought that was for he was more than capable of handling both cartons. She flushed. Of course they weren't too heavy for Harry; he wasn't a scrawny, little boy any more.

Thankfully he let her silly offer slide by with nary a word. She was grateful for that. Ron would have ribbed her for days on the subject, only stopping when she waved her wand under his nose.

"So where's the trolley?" he asked. "Not that I'm in a rush or anything, but knowing you, you probably don't want to spend too much time away from your flat, seeing how Shadow's still new and all."

"Oh! It's right over there by—" She turned to point out where Ginny had parked it, only to find it gone. She sighed. Of course Ginny would run off without letting her know that she was leaving.

"She's in the produce section," Harry informed her.

She wrinkled her brow, perplexed. She would have guessed the meat section given Ginny's last comment to her. "And you know that because—"

"That's where I found her when I dropped off the tuna," he stated.

She snapped her fingers as she put two and two together. She could have kicked herself for being so gullible. "So that's how you knew where I was! You got Ginny to tell you."

He lifted one eyebrow up. "Hardly," he snorted. "She said that you were looking at the bread. Seeing how I knew all about her schemes to begin with, I was positive that was more misdirection on her part and so I came here instead."

She chuckled at that. She felt sorry for the other witch. It must be impossible to manage a husband who was twice as cunning as you. "Poor Ginny. Does she know how early she'll have to get up to pull one over on you?"

A slow smirk spread across Harry's face, and she could tell that he was inordinately pleased with himself. "That's not going to happen, although I'll give her credit for trying," he said. He started walking toward the produce section, and Hermione followed. Their banter continued as they made their way through the store.

But though she displayed a carefree façade to the word, Hermione couldn't help but worry about what Harry really thought about her agreeing to be set up by Ginny. She didn't know if he had been glaring at any wizard who ventured too close to her because he felt protective towards her or for some other reason. She bit her lip as she considered the possibility that she had disappointed her friend in some way. _There's only one way to find out,_ she thought to herself.

Screwing up her courage, she halted a few paces behind him and called out softly, "Harry?"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her. "What is it?" he asked.

"About my agreeing to let Ginny help me…." She trailed off, blushing furiously. It was positively sophomoric how she was too embarrassed to say out loud in the middle of the market that she was looking for a man, but she couldn't help but feel that way. She had never been the sort to throw herself at wizards. Though she liked to think of herself as a feminist and all, the truth was she was too reserved to ask a bloke out.

Harry sighed deeply. "No, I'm not disappointed in you," he told her, reading her mind. "Not in the slightest, in fact. I just always got the impression that you were just fine being on your own, and so I thought maybe she had pressured you into the whole thing. I mean, if you want to find someone, that's great. I do want you to be happy and all. But unlike Ginny, I have no problem believing that a witch can be happy without a wizard."

"That's probably because you weren't raised in the Wizarding World."

Harry nodded. "Yes, some of their ideas are positively medieval, aren't they?"

"That's being generous. I would've gone back farther than that."

"That's because you know history better than I do," he quipped. "But in any case, you know you have other options, don't you? I can understand that you don't want to be alone at Ron's wedding, but if you're just looking for someone for Molly to insultingly compare to Ron…well think about it Hermione! Why subject someone you like to such torture? It's much better to drag Malfoy along and let him be in the hot seat."

She hated how her heart rate skyrocketed at the mere mention of her mate's name. She hoped desperately that Harry didn't notice it. "I think Ron would disown me if I did that," she said jokingly.

"He might surprise you there," Harry said, apparently oblivious to her inner turmoil. "I think he'd be grateful to you, actually, if Malfoy's presence distracts Molly from sparring with Padma's mother."

Hermione winced. "I take it they don't like each other."

Harry shot her a look. "Padma's begged Ron a couple of times for them to elope. According to her, when it comes to planning the wedding, the two of them disagree on everything."

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "If it were anyone else, I would be positive that's an exaggeration. But Padma's not one to tend towards hyperbole. Rather the opposite in fact." That thought cheered her, but for all the wrong reasons. Maybe it would be best for her to attend Ron's wedding alone. If Molly Weasley was too busy sniping at Mrs. Patil, then she would have no time to gloat in Hermione's direction.

Of course it was probably too late to back out now, seeing how she had already agreed to let Ginny match make. But it was something to consider in the event that she didn't come across any wizard that suited her purposes.


	4. Chapter 3

**Fated: Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Hermione rubbed her eyes with her hands. She could feel a headache coming on, brought about by spending too many hours pouring over the latest piece of legislation proposed by her division in the International Magical Office of Law, looking for loopholes that would allow companies to cut down precious trees to make wands and brooms.

Not that she minded the wands so much. They were rather necessary for wizards to use magic, after all, and besides it didn't take much wood to make a wand. One tree was easily enough to make hundreds and hundreds of wands. The same couldn't be said of brooms however. Quite frankly, while she appreciated that many wizards were fond of flying and of Quidditch, she didn't see why broom manufacturers had to come out with new models every single year. She thought it would make more sense for them to retrofit old models and reuse what materials they could. Unfortunately the broom companies didn't see things her way.

It was unfortunate that the broom manufacturers had forged an alliance with the wand makers of the Wizarding World to defeat the conservation bill before her in any way possible. She shook her head in disgust, remembering how one wand maker after another all came forward to claim that if stricter limits were set upon the harvesting of magical forests, then wand prices would rise exponentially. She had been livid that day for that argument ignored the simple truth that there were more than enough spare wands in the world. There were at least two spare wands for each and every wizard and witch on the face of the planet.

She sighed deeply. While it was regrettable that the wand makers had decided to side against them on this proposed act along with the broom manufacturers, she would have had the same work to do regardless. The method through which the Wizarding World enacted new laws was byzantine and arcane, and there was literally no one who fully understood it. The worst part about the whole process was that clerks in various offices could add changes to any particular bill without them having to tell anyone about those changes being made.

She shuddered as she remembered what had happened to the Paperwork Reduction Act they had tried to push through last year. Somewhere along the way some officious bastard had added a zero to the text of the bill, thereby letting all departments keep up to one hundred copies of the same document. That had effectively gutted the bill. Drew Irving, the kind elderly wizard who was her boss, had found out about that disastrous change at the last minute, and the two of them had had to scramble kill the bill they had spent so many hours working on.

Hermione reached up and brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen in her eyes. She glanced up at the clock and decided she had earned herself a break. Besides she figured that a cup of tea might help her concentrate.

She got up and stretched before trotting over to the break room. Inside a small crowd of gossiping witches lingered around the table, but Hermione just ignored them. That group had learned long ago just to leave her alone; any prodding on their part to get her to divulge any tidbits about her friends wouldn't end well for them. She took out her mug and placed in it one of the bags of tea her office supplied, then headed over to fill it with hot water. A few minutes later, her tea was done. She threw out the bag and reached for a spoon so she could add her milk and sugar.

That was when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end.

"Good afternoon ladies," came the smooth voice of Draco Malfoy. "Might any of you be able to tell me where I can find Drew Irving?" he inquired charmingly after her boss.

Hermione had to bite back a groan as instantly all of the other witches in the break room jumped up and started fawning over the pointy git. She risked a look behind her and what she saw made her want to swear. Malfoy was leaning against the door frame, effectively cutting off her only avenue of escape. Involuntarily her fists clenched when she saw Malfoy flirting with all those other witches.

_I simply mustn't hex them_, she chanted silently to herself. _I must not hex them. I must not hex them. Think about it Hermione! They're doing you a favor, really, by keeping his attention off of you._ Suddenly she was possessed by a jealous rage that she just could not contain. She simply could not let the situation stand as is. Before she knew it, she was stalking towards the door.

"Excuse me," she said snootily to the small gaggle blocking her way, "but some of us actually have work to do around here." She narrowed her eyes and glared at the twits, effectively cowing them into silence.

Unfortunately that didn't work on the bane of her existence.

"Why Granger," Malfoy drawled, "how unpleasant it is to see you, as always."

"Likewise," said Hermione with a toss of her head. It didn't seem right that even though she had long lost any hope of her mate even tolerating her, every time she confronted him, another small part of her died. But thankfully she had habit to fall back on, and so she was able to give as good as she got without shedding any tears before him. She frowned as she realized that he was still blocking the door. "Since it appears that you failed to understand me the first time, could you please move? I have no wish to spend any more time in your company than absolutely necessary."

"Likewise." Malfoy's voice was as frigid as ice. "Be that as it may, however, I do need to find Drew. So as much as it pains me to prolong this unwanted encounter, I'm afraid I have to ask if you know where your boss is."

She rolled her eyes. She supposed she had no choice but to answer, if she wanted to get out of this situation with a shred of pride remaining. "He has a meeting until four today, but he should be back in his office after that," she stated.

A smile spread across Draco's face. A soft gasp involuntarily crossed Hermione's lips as she was struck yet again by just how handsome her mate was when he was truly happy about something. It was dreadfully silly but some small part of her was celebrating that it had been her who had brought that smile to his face for once. She quickly quashed that thought, summoning her iron will so that she could regain her mental composure.

Thank Merlin for small miracles that Malfoy didn't realized what sort of an impact his smile had on her.

"Excellent," said Malfoy still beaming. "And here I was thinking that I was too late, that I had missed him for the day. I'll go and wait for him. If you'll excuse me, my dears," he said with a nod at the witches huddled on the other end of the break room. He turned and left, with nary a word of thanks for Hermione. If she was looking for any gratitude from him, then his smile would have to do.

But that was par for the course. Relieved that she had escaped relatively unscathed, she fled towards the sanctuary of her office. She immediately threw herself into her work, desperate for the distraction. She focused on the words before her and pushed her roiling emotions to the side.

A knock sounded at her door. Hermione looked up to see her boss entering. She began to rise to her feet, but he gestured for her to remaining sitting as he took the seat across from her.

"Working late again?" Drew asked her.

She blinked. She took a glance at the clock, and her jaw dropped open. "Oh!" she said. "I hadn't realized it's this late. I was going over the forest preservation bill to see if I could find any loopholes."

"And did you?"

She shook her head. "No. Or at least not yet. I was thinking that perhaps we shouldn't describe the metes and bounds of the protected areas by using longitude and latitude. It's too easy for a scrivener's error to change those numbers."

"An excellent suggestion," he said approvingly. He then scratched his head and a sheepish expression crossed his face. "I must say I am glad to find you still here. Though I do worry about the hours you sometimes keep," he added with a wag of his finger. "Don't you have a new kitten to take care off?"

"Yes I do." Thinking of Shadow made her smile. When she had first thought about getting a new familiar, she had worried about leaving it home alone and so she had asked for permission to keep it at the office for a couple of weeks. It turned out that such permission was not needed for Shadow instantly had made herself at home in Hermione's flat.

"And how is your new cat doing?" Drew asked. "And why haven't I seen her, for that matter?"

"Oh she's at home. I tried to take her in yesterday but she didn't want to leave. Too comfortable on my bed, I suppose. So I didn't force the issue," Hermione explained.

"A wise decision, I'm sure. But to get back to my original reason for seeing you, young Mr. Malfoy paid me a visit earlier today."

She sat up straight in her chair. "Oh? Is something wrong?" she asked. "He did seem to be in a rush to find you."

"Ah yes, but to give me good news this time around. It does make for a nice change," said Drew. "Apparently young Draco was talking with his parents last night about the difficulties we've been facing when it comes to preserving magical forests. A good thing he did that too, for Narcissa, his mother, came up with a positively brilliant idea."

"Oh?"

"Yes, yes. Narcissa Malfoy suggested that the Malfoys could start a new foundation—I believe Draco referred to it as the Malfoy Foundation for the Preservation of Magical Environments or something like that. The foundation would take in funds from various interested parties and use those monies to buy up lands to keep them pristine, effectively keeping them out of harm's way."

"That's great," said Hermione. She gestured to the parchment before her. "Does that mean that we won't need—"

"Oh no, no. We would still do our best to push forward that bill and others. This is just another means of attack, so to speak. Our efforts will be complimentary," he explained. "So we will do our best to change the rule of law to improve conservation efforts while the new Malfoy Foundation will channel the energies and resources of the private sector to do what we cannot."

"I see. That way we're not putting all our eggs in one basket," Hermione said.

"Exactly. It'll also help with strategy, I think. We can negotiate knowing it's safe for us to make concessions because the act won't be the end of conservation efforts." He nodded his head sharply. "So apparently Draco's had his attorneys working on drafting the necessary papers to start such a foundation, and he'll contribute the funds needed for start up. It should be completely set up before the week is over. His mother is going to pitch in as well. I understand that's she is very excited about the idea of hosting gala event at Malfoy Manor to announce it to the world."

"A gala?" Hermione repeated. Warning bells went off in her head. She didn't like where this was headed.

"Yes, a gala." Drew coughed nervously. "We're all to attend. There's more to that actually, when it comes to you."

"Somehow I was afraid you'll say that," Hermione muttered.

Her boss continued as though he hadn't heard her. "Normally I understand that Narcissa would have one of her friends help her plan a big even like this. But seeing how we're to work with the new foundation to advance our cause, she thought it would be a good idea to have someone from our department to fill that role and help her plan everything. That way we can have a sort of unofficial liaison. That's part of the reason why young Draco was here, to see if I could get someone to volunteer for the task. Almost immediately I thought of you and—"

"You volunteered me, didn't you?" Hermione asked forlornly. She felt like burying her head beneath her hands. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Bad enough that Malfoy had the tendency to show up in her department in the first place. But for her to have to visit his home on what was likely to be a weekly basis—for one brief moment, she would have rather been sent to Azkaban.

"Yes, yes. Now don't look at me like that, Hermione," he admonished her. "Think of this as a learning experience. Narcissa Malfoy is a talented organizer in her own right, and it would do you good to acquire some of her skill set. You'll find, I'm sure, that a few words said in the right place can do more for your cause than all the laws in the world."

Hermione sighed. It didn't look like there was any way for her to get out of this one. "Al right," she said. "So when am I supposed to meet her to talk about putting together this ball?"

"Tomorrow," came the reply. "Two o'clock in the afternoon at Malfoy Manor."

"Brilliant," said Hermione. She discreetly pinched herself, hoping against hope that this was all just a bad dream, but to her dismay, she didn't wake up.

Her boss narrowed his eyes at her. "You will go, won't you? It would be an embarrassment for our department for you not to show up especially with everything the Malfoys have done to help us."

"I understand." She smiled wanly. "Don't worry, Drew. I've never shirked a task simply because I don't like it."

"Good. I was hoping you wouldn't disappoint me. Now go home. It's far too late for you to be here." With that, he made a shooing motion, then left.

Hermione allowed herself a full five minutes to feel sorry for herself before she started packing up for the evening. It was too late for her to be here, especially after the awful day she had had. Once she had tidied everything up, she made her way through the hallways and to the lifts so she could Apparate home.

"I hate my life," she announced loudly as she appeared in her living room. She tossed her bag into a nearby chair and stalked over to the kitchen. She opened her fridge, which was full of food for once seeing how she had gone out shopping with her friends last night. She plucked an apple from the crisper and then headed over to the sink to give it a wash. Savagely she bit into the apple. The apple was fresh and crisp, and she found its crunch to be soothing.

A soft meow sounded from the floor. She looked down to see her kitten looking hopefully at her. "Oh! I'm sorry, Shadow! You must be starving." Hermione put down her half-eaten apple onto the counter and walked back to the fridge to get some milk. She poured a small amount of milk into a bowl, setting it down on the floor so Shadow could drink from it. Her cat looked at the bowl, then looked at her, and then sniffed haughtily, as if to convey her displeasure with the meal set before her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. That's not nearly enough for your dinner, seeing how you're a growing kitten and all. But that's good to start, don't you think, until I can get a tin of tuna open for you?" Those words seemed to mollify her cat. Hermione reflected that Shadow was already too clever for her own good.

Reaching into the cupboard, Hermione took out a tin of tuna. Then she thought the better of it and took out two more. Cheesy pasta with tuna sounded like a good idea for dinner to her as it was easy to make but still comfort food. She needed comfort food like that after the day she had.

A little over an hour later, Hermione was to be found in the living room ensconced on her sofa, a bowl of pasta sitting on the end table beside her as she read through the latest romance book she had bought. It was escapist fantasy, she knew, but it was nice to read about witches being pursued by the wizards of their dreams rather than what she had to face. She sighed softly to herself. It was too bad that she would never know such bliss.

"Hermione? Hermione? Are you here?" a voice called out from behind her. Hermione leapt to her feet, surprised that anyone was trying to floo her this late. She turned around to see that Ginny's head had appeared in her fireplace.

"Ginny!" she said. "One second. I'll be right there." She immediately went over to crouch before the fire to make it easier to speak with her friend. Not for the first time she wished that Ginny would use the phone like Harry did. Talking over the phone was much more comfortable than crouching in front of her fireplace and it didn't startle her half as much when the phone rang.

"So what is it?" she asked as she settled down before to the fireplace.

"It's nice to see you too, Hermione," said her friend with an eye roll. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for ages."

"At work," she replied simply.

Ginny grimaced. "I guess I should've expected that. Harry said that I should just go ahead and owl you, but I thought that might be risky. You don't always open the post right away, and so I thought it better to let you know in person that I've a date set up for you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? So soon?" Hermione blinked. She hadn't anticipated her friend working that quickly on finding a wizard to set her up with.

"What can I say? When you're good, you're good." Ginny grinned broadly, thoroughly pleased with herself. "And the best thing is that Harry likes the bloke so we don't have to worry about my dear husband scaring him off."

"So can you tell me who he is? Or is that supposed to be a surprise?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, it's Oliver Wood. You remember him, right? He was dead impressed with that spell you used back on Harry's glasses during that one match in the rain. So you don't have to worry about first impressions; you've already made a good one," said Ginny. "And as I said, Harry likes him and thinks he's a good, upstanding wizard. Which means I can trust him enough to make it a double date—you and Oliver, and me and Harry. It'll be dinner then a movie."

"Sounds grand." Hermione couldn't summon up much enthusiasm for the proposition. It appeared as though Ginny had arranged the whole evening as a way to let Hermione get her feet wet before the redhead really started looking for someone who would suit her friend. Hermione did remember Oliver from school, and while he was nice enough, describing him as Quidditch mad wasn't very accurate at all. The boy had practically lived and breathed Quidditch while he had been at Hogwarts.

Ginny shook her head. "I can tell what you're thinking, you know. You're thinking that you're going to be bored to tears since the entire table will be talking about Quidditch."

"You mean it's not?"

Her friend motioned with a hand as if waving the issue aside. "Of course there's going to be some talk about Quidditch. And I know that Oliver will probably talk about it more than you would like. But Hermione, the only wizards who are as interested in Quidditch as you—which is to say not at all—are old and decrepit and at least a half century older than you. Besides Oliver has the most charming brogue. Honestly I could listen to that man read a dictionary."

Hermione looked skeptically at her friend. She still wasn't convinced that this was a good idea, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was too late to call things off.

Ginny evidently recognized that look as the next words out of her mouth were ones of rebuke. "Hermione, please. Just give him a chance. That's what he's doing for you. Oliver remembers you spending hours in the library, but he's coming to dinner tomorrow night with an open mind. Who knows? You might just hit it off."

She couldn't deny the truth of her friends' words. It was only fair for her to give Oliver a chance. From what she knew of him, he was a good man. While he wasn't the one fate had chosen for her, that didn't mean that they weren't compatible. All things considered there was some possibility that they would be good together. She crossed her fingers. She hoped that would be the case. It would be nice to have someone; it would be nice not to be so lonely, if only for a little while.

"So when are we meeting and where?" Hermione asked. "I don't believe you ever told me that."

"You're right. I didn't. I can't believe I forgot the most important part," Ginny stated. "We'll meet up at our place at seven." She looked critically at her friend. "Should I owl you a reminder at six to make sure you're not working late?"

"Oh no. Don't worry about that. I have a meeting at two, and I'll go straight home after that to freshen up and all." Hermione rolled her eyes as she thought about the meeting she had with Narcissa tomorrow. "Goodness knows I won't feel like working after dealing with a Malfoy," she muttered to herself.

"Malfoy did you say?" Ginny's ears perked up. "What's wrong? Has he been bothering you again?"

"It's far too late to go into such a long story," said Hermione. "I need to get some sleep otherwise I'll be—"

"As grouchy as a bear tomorrow," Ginny finished for her. "All right then. You go and get your beauty sleep. I'll just nag you about this when I see you tomorrow."

"I can't wait," Hermione replied dryly. She was perfectly serious. She couldn't wait until Ginny started pestering her tomorrow about the whole fiasco with the Malfoys because that would mean she would've survived her meeting with Narcissa.

****

**Author's note: **Another week, another update? Pretty amazing, isn't it? As always reviews would be ever so much appreciated.


	5. Chapter 4

**Fated: Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. It was a lost cause. While she thought she looked very nice, she just knew that she was going to feel dowdy next to the classical beauty of Narcissa Malfoy. _And that's just going to do wonders for my self-esteem right before I'm to meet with Oliver_, she noted ironically.

She let out a soft groan. She had this sinking feeling in her stomach that tonight's date was going to be a complete disaster. She pushed that thought out of her mind. She wanted to think positive thoughts, not negative ones. She cast one last charm upon her hair—there was no such thing as using too many charms on her hair—before activating the portkey she had received earlier at work. For even though there was no way she could match Narcissa in beauty or grace, at least she could be prompt.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself cooling her heels in a spacious sitting room in Malfoy Manor, just waiting for her hostess to arrive. She sighed. She supposed she should be thankful that she didn't recognize the room she was in and therefore had no bad memories of it. The room was small and intimate but still richly appointed. There was one large loveseat in the center, done in silver and green brocade and with a curving, serpentine back. There was an elegant table in front of the loveseat and matching armchairs to either side, also done in green and silver. To her surprise, she had found the armchairs to be very comfortable when she had taken a seat in one. Tapestries were hung on the walls, all depicting various forest scenes. Clearly green was the theme for this particular room.

Suddenly the door swung open, and Narcissa Malfoy burst into the room. "You have my apologies, Miss Granger," she said, coming to a stop in front of the younger witch. As Hermione had expected, Narcissa was a graceful vision, decked out in airy blue robes that highlighted her eyes, looking every inch to be the lady of the manor. The blonde witch looked to be several inches taller than her, several pounds lighter, and only several years older. "I am so very sorry for making you wait," Narcissa continued.

Hermione rose from her seat, feeling slightly intimidated. "Oh no. It's fine. I was a little early," she said awkwardly.

"Ah yes, but I was more than a little late." Narcissa tilted her head to one side and looked critically at Hermione for a moment. Then she smiled. "In any event, seeing how the weather is so pleasant today, I thought we might have this discussion out in the back gardens. I think the view outside might be to your liking."

"That sounds lovely," Hermione said in earnest.

"Excellent." Narcissa beamed at her approvingly. She began to lead the younger witch through the manor while keeping up a steady stream of conversation, asking after Hermione's family with what appeared to be genuine interest and so Hermione responded in kind.

"Oh we are much the same as ever," Narcissa answered when Hermione inquired after her husband and son. "Lucius is currently busy trying to improve the instruction at Hogwarts. It seems that he believes that some of the professors there shouldn't be teaching and that standards need to be set in place for them. It's not that I disagree with him, but I feel he's really fighting a lost cause. But telling him that only makes him dig in his heels even more. Men! And as for Draco—" Narcissa paused and wrinkled her nose. "Well the less said about his choices the better."

Hermione nodded her head, not really wanting to talk about her mate and his choices anyway. The conversation turned to safer topics shortly after that. Somewhere along the way, Hermione realized the purpose behind all the turns Narcissa was making—she was purposefully avoiding the room Hermione had been tortured in. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't really wanted to face those memories today. Finally they reached their destination. Narcissa pushed open a large door and indicated with a hand that Hermione was to go first.

"Oh!" she softly exclaimed. She took several steps forward, enchanted with the sight before her. The gardens were large and beautiful but that wasn't what took her breath away. No, what left her breathless was the ancient forest that loomed in the distance.

"I thought you would appreciate the view," Narcissa said from behind her.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione told her.

"It is, isn't it? The forest has been there for ages and has been in the family for almost as long." Narcissa paused. "Does that answer a question of yours? Of just why our family is so concerned about conservation?"

Hermione turned to face the other witch. "I admit I did wonder about that. It seemed out of character." Narcissa raised an eyebrow at those words, and Hermione blanched. She had really put her foot in it. "Not that I know much about your family…just after your husband bought brooms for the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, I thought—" She bit her lip. Obviously she should have shut up rather than digging herself into a deeper hole.

"I can see why you might think that," Narcissa said gently. "Such a gesture seemed wasteful to you, did it not? But I assure you it was not wasteful, not when you take the long view. Lucius made certain that the gift was to the team and not to the wizards on it. The Slytherin team used those brooms the entire time Draco was there, and even a few years beyond that if I'm not mistaken. If the team hadn't had the brooms, then inevitably each new player would have to buy a racing broom of his own to use. That would have been such a shame, don't you think, seeing how few students go on to play Quidditch professionally."

"I see," said Hermione. She hadn't thought about it that way before. Looked at in that light, the Malfoys outfitting the entire Slytherin team didn't seem as outrageous as it had before. It was food for thought.

Narcissa led her down a flight of stairs and then over a short path to a white gazebo that was surrounded by flowerbeds. In the center of the gazebo were a table and a set of chairs. The table was set for two, and there were biscuits and sandwiches and tea upon it. Narcissa gestured for Hermione to take a seat first, which she did. The next few minutes were filled with the pouring of tea and the serving of food. It was only after that was complete that Narcissa finally broached the subject of the gala.

"We might as well get down to business then," said Narcissa. She frowned, then flicked her wand, summoning a piece of parchment that was evidently a list. She consulted it for a moment before continuing. "The first thing we need to do is to decide upon is a date. I was thinking of hosting the party one month hence…unless it would help your department to hold it later of course."

Hermione shook her head. "No, a month from now is fine," she said. "Drew and I are working on new legislation, but then we always are so anything that can raise awareness of the conservation issues facing the Wizarding World would help us in the end."

"I see. Then it's just as well for us to have the party sooner rather than later. Very well then. We'll have it one month from Saturday. Let's move on to other items."

The two witches continued to work their way down Narcissa's list. Hermione found herself amazed at just how detailed it was, but then she remembered that Narcissa had planned many an gala event before this. Still she had to admire the other witch's organizational skills for it seemed as every detail they would need to go over in advance was on that list. But despite the fact that Narcissa was more than capable of planning this event without any help from Hermione, she still took the time to elicit opinions from the Gryffindor. That more than anything else made Hermione feel like a welcomed guest at Malfoy Manor.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood up at the sound of a familiar voice. She sat up in her seat, her spine as straight as a rod, as she mentally crossed her fingers and hoped that they weren't about to be interrupted. However it was all for naught.

"There you are, Mother," came the voice of Draco Malfoy. "We've been looking all over for you."

Narcissa rose from her chair and beamed at her only child. "Draco! You silly boy! You knew perfectly well that I had an appointment for this afternoon with Miss Granger here." Her smile took away any bite to her words.

Draco looked sheepish. "I had forgotten that," he admitted, scratching his head with one hand. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by his guest before he could say anything else.

"That filthy Mudblood thief is here?" screeched Daphne Greengrass. She latched on to Draco's arm. Hermione clenched her fists beneath the table as she fought with her instincts. Violence was never the answer, she reminded herself, as she glared fiercely at the other witch.

Unfortunately Daphne was completely oblivious to any and all dangers. "Draco! What is she doing here?" she sniffed haughtily. "I thought here of all places should be free of the taint of Mudbloods like her."

The temperature of the garden dropped several degrees. Hermione blinked in surprise. The sudden chill wasn't a result of anything she had done.

"Miss Granger here is my honored guest," Narcissa declared in icy tones, "and I expect her to be treated as such."

Draco winced and took a step back. However the witch by his side ignored even that warning.

"Your guest?" Daphne repeated dubiously. She turned to face Draco. "Draco, darling, is your mother not feeling well today? She seems to think that thing"—she waved a hand in Hermione's direction—"belongs here, rather than being tossed out with the rubbish."

It was now freezing in the gazebo. Narcissa raised one eyebrow at Daphne's statement before directing her full attention at her son. "Draco, this is unacceptable. I expect for you to remedy this situation right away." Her hands were folded in her lap and her posture regal as she commanded him. Draco gulped once nervously before turning away, tugging at Daphne for her to follow him. Narcissa continued to glare at the young couple as they made their retreat.

Once they were gone, she tossed her head in the air as she sat back down. "And that is what I mean about his choices," the older witch told Hermione. "Honestly! If I told him once, I told him a hundred times that Daphne Greengrass is simply not a suitable witch. Even that girl's sister is a better choice for at least she's young enough to be molded still. But sometimes it seems the more I tell him not to do something…." Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "Ah well. At least I shall never have to deal with that silly witch ever again."

"Oh?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes. I've set him straight now." Narcissa took a long sip of tea. "He'll be telling her shortly that they have no future together. It better be today, if he knows what's best for him. I can't believe the gall of that girl. Insulting my guest in my own home! That's as bad as, if not worse, as insulting me directly. No manners at all, that one."

Hermione didn't know what to think about that. When Draco and Daphne had made their appearance, she had thought things weren't going to end well for her. She had never expected for Narcissa to defend her against the other Slytherin witch, much less to all but order Draco to break up with the bint. Hermione bit her lip as it occurred to her she owed Narcissa a debt of gratitude and then mumbled her thanks to Narcissa for defending her. However her hostess waived off that thanks, saying that it was unnecessary.

"I had wanted to put that witch in her place before this," she said. "I am of course sorry to have got you involved, but it is a load off my back to know that Draco is finally done with her." Narcissa heaved a sigh before finishing the last of her tea. "Faint comfort though as I fear he'll soon find another witch sillier than she. Sometimes I think he has a catalogue of them, and he sends away for a new model whenever I manage to rid him of one. That would be so like him."

The witches Draco favored also were always stunningly gorgeous pure-bloods, Hermione reflected, two things that she was most definitely not. She stifled a grimace. This really wasn't a topic she wanted to linger over, so she gracefully changed subjects, directing Narcissa's attention back to her list. Thankfully the older witch seemed more than willing to drop the topic of Draco's love life.

Time flew as the two witches worked together, as they made slow but steady progress on Narcissa's to-do list. What wound up taking the most time was deciding on whom to invite. Narcissa expressed a wish to keep the event relatively small but then had followed that up with a declaration that she would only invite five hundred people. Hermione hid her smile, thinking that such a number was hardly small, but readily agreed with her hostess even as she wondered how they could possibly invite that many people. But then Narcissa summoned a small ornate box. Inside of the box was a multitude of cards, too many to count, each one representing one of the blonde witch's contacts. The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon, sifting through the cards, deciding who would be best to invite for their purposes.

Before Hermione knew it, it was time for her to leave. She didn't realize that how late it had become until the older witch made a point of mentioning it. "Well that's enough progress for today I think," said Narcissa with a small smile. "We still have a ways to go, but no party was ever completely planned in a single sitting. Would you like to stay for dinner, dear? Or did you have somewhere else to go?"

"Actually I do. Have someplace to go, that is," Hermione replied. To her surprise, she felt regret at having to leave so soon. She had truly enjoyed herself as Narcissa had been most welcoming towards her. "Sorry," she added.

Narcissa waved that aside. "No apologies are necessary. I was young once. I remember staying out all night, having fun with friends." She stood up from her seat. "And now we come to the second reason why I thought it wise to meet outside."

"Oh?" said Hermione.

"Yes," said Narcissa. "You might not have heard this but Slytherins rarely do anything for a single reason. It's practically an unwritten House rule. Another reason I decided to work outside today is that you should be able to Apparate from there." She gestured towards the woods. "That's more convenient for you, is it not?"

"It is." Hermione blinked. She hadn't realized that the anti-Apparition wards on Malfoy Manor didn't include the forest. She tucked that piece of information away for future use as Narcissa led her down a garden path towards forest edge.

"And here we are," said Narcissa. "You should be able to Apparate to and from here so I'll meet you here for our next planning session."

"Oh," said Hermione. _That would work out nicely_, she thought. "Perhaps we should set up a schedule?" she suggested.

She was rewarded with a wide smile from the other witch. "I thought you would never ask. I would like for us to get together twice a week. There is so much to do and all. I was thinking of every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon—if you can spare the time that is."

Hermione nodded her head slowly. "I think I can do that," she said. "I have to confirm with Drew that I can spend those afternoons over here though. I'll do that tomorrow and let you know either way."

"Good. I'll be looking for your owl then. But I suppose you must get going. Have a nice evening, my dear," Narcissa said warmly.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me." Hermione took a quick look around, fixing the location in her head so she could return here at a later date. Then she gathered her magic around her as she Apparated over to her friend's flat, never noticing the satisfied smirk that had appeared on Narcissa's face as she teleported away.

Hermione arrived in the living room, which had become her habit ever since the time she had arrived in the kitchen whilst her friends were busy entertaining one another. She flushed. That had been an embarrassing moment for them all. She never wanted to make another mistake like that again. "Harry? Ginny? Is anyone home?" she called out, knowing that was safer to do that than go looking for them. She really didn't want to catch them in the act yet again.

"Hermione? You're here early?" squealed Ginny. A second later, the vivacious redhead was bouncing into the room. "That's wonderful! I was hoping I'd have time to do your hair."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And just what is wrong with my hair?" she asked. She couldn't help but scan about for a mirror or some sort of reflective surface so she could check on it. She thought she had it under control for her meeting with Narcissa, but past experience had taught Hermione that her hair had a mind of its own.

"Nothing. It looks lovely as is. But you always wear it up. You should do something different for a change," said Ginny.

"I like it up. Keeps it out of my eyes."

That earned her an eye roll from her friend. "What's the point of having long hair if you're never going to wear it down?" Ginny asked. "Never mind. Don't answer that," she added as she continued to look over Hermione critically.

Hermione didn't like the look in her friend's eyes. "What else? You have another set of robes you want me to wear?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, no. These robes are lovely on you. But leave Saturday open, and possibly Sunday as well. We need to schedule a shopping trip for you."

"I seem to recall letting you set me up, not give me a makeover. I didn't sign up for that."

"No, you didn't. Let me assure you I have no intention of giving you one," Ginny stated.

"Oh really? You could've fooled me."

Ginny sighed. "I'm not, okay? Right now, I'm just going to fix your hair—not because you don't look good, but because I think you'd be absolutely stunning if you'd wear it down."

Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "The gaping silence you'd hear would be from the shock and horror everyone would feel at seeing the monstrosity on top of my head."

"Oh ye of little faith," Ginny tsked. "Trust me."

"If you're wrong, do I get out of shopping this weekend?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shook her head vigorously. "Not a chance. Your hair is one issue. Your wardrobe is something else entirely."

"What was it you were saying about not giving me a makeover?"

"I'm not. But when was the last time you bought something nice for yourself, Hermione? Ages ago, right? This set of robes does look very good on you, but I recognize it. You wore it back when Harry was promoted to full Auror, right? And then again at my hen party, if I'm not mistaken."

Hermione stiffened. "Perhaps," she answered. "But I'm not the sort to wear a set of robes once, then toss it away."

"Yes, but…." Ginny sighed and then looked down and away. "Here's the thing, Hermione. If I know how old your robes are, then my mum does too. And that's exactly the sort of thing she'll notice and disparage and—"

"You know I don't care about that," Hermione said gently.

Ginny's head snapped up. "But I do! I hate how snide she gets around you! And I'm not the only one—Harry hates it too and it's a wonder that he can control his temper so well." She took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Perhaps it's silly, but I can't help it. So please Hermione. Let's go out shopping this weekend and get you something new and afterwards maybe get a massage and unwind at a spa. My treat. Okay?"

Hermione couldn't tell her friend no after such a plea. She knew she was lucky to have friends who cared for her the way both Ginny and Harry did. Besides she supposed Ginny had a point. She hadn't bought herself any new dress robes in the last few years, mainly because she didn't go to that many events that required them. Now, however, that was going to change between Ron's wedding and the ball being planning for her department. It then occurred to her getting some new outfits for work might also be a good idea, so she wouldn't feel so dowdy when she met with Narcissa. "All right," Hermione said slowly. "I suppose you have a point there. I'll agree to go with you to look for new robes, but no bullying me into buying anything I hate."

"Deal." A wicked grin appeared on Ginny's face. "Bullying you into trying on something different for a change is an entirely different matter, of course."

"Ginny!"

"What? If you try it on and don't like it, I shan't press you to purchase it. Or buy it for you or have Harry buy it for you or anything sneaky like that, I promise. But come on, let's get started on your hair." The younger witch all but dragged Hermione into the bedroom and then made her sit down in a chair next to the dresser. Arranged on top of the dresser was a bevy of hair products. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the collection, reflecting silently that Ginny must have planned all along to do her hair.

Ginny let down her hair and immediately set to work. She fussed over Hermione's hair, going through potion after potion, mumbling under her breath the entire time. Hermione simply sighed and closed her eyes. At least her friend was gentle and was careful not to pull too roughly, which was more than Hermione could say for the last hairdresser she had visited. Finally, after Ginny had just about gone through every single hair product she had assembled, she was done.

"There!" A note of accomplishment rang in Ginny's voice. "Take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think."

Hermione did as she was asked. From the front, there wasn't all that much difference. Her hair did frame her face more, but all that meant was that it was likely to get blown into her eyes and nose and mouth whenever the wind picked up. The back was a different story however. Her hair fell down in rippling waves until it tapered to an end at the small of her back. It was quite an alluring look, she admitted to herself, but it wasn't as though it would last.

"Well? Stunned into silence over how lovely you look?" Ginny prodded her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I'm placing bets with myself, you see. The optimist in me thinks that this hair style might last for an hour while the realist is insisting that just inside twenty minutes is more like it."

Ginny's mouth dropped. "Excuse me?" she sputtered.

She raised an eyebrow at her friend, then offered her an ironic grin. "I take it that you don't want to know what my inner cynic thinks, now do you?"

"No, I don't, I really don't." Ginny shook her head. "Ah well. Time will tell. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised that you won't have to visit the little girl's room at all during dinner to deal with your hair. But you won't believe it until it happens, I know. In any event, we'd best get going. That took me longer than expected, and so now we're running late."

"Oh? But the boys aren't here yet."

"No, they're not. We're supposed to meet them at the restaurant. That way I'd have time to do your hair while Harry could make certain that Oliver's presentable."

"Oh?" That didn't sound good.

Ginny grimaced. "And I shouldn't have said that. Gave you the wrong idea, I'm sure. You know Harry. He's reading Oliver the riot act, letting him know what'll happen to him if he doesn't behave himself around you."

"Really?" Hermione blinked. "Can you imagine what he'll be like if you two have a daughter?"

"Ten times worse and that's only if I'm lucky. I'd like to think that maybe he can get it all out of his system now but—"

"Knowing Harry, he probably sees this as practice," Hermione finished for her.

"Too true that. Now let's go. I'll Apparate us there." Hermione nodded her agreement. Ginny latched on to her, holding tightly on to her hand, and a second later, they were gone.

Hermione blinked in surprise as she examined their surroundings after they arrived. "This is…not a pub?"

Ginny dropped her hand before sending her a quizzical glance. "If that's your standard for dates…well let's just say that it's no wonder why you and my brother didn't work out."

Hermione shook her head. "No, no," she said quickly. "It's just that—well honestly I didn't expect any place this fancy." She quirked an eyebrow as she continued to examine the restaurant with its marble floors and crystal chandeliers. "And you can't blame Ron for not taking me to a restaurant as fancy as this. It simply wasn't in our budgets back then." She pursed her lips together as she realized Ginny had forgotten to tell her something. "By the way, where are we anyway? You never did tell me the name of the place."

"I didn't? I thought I did the other day."

"I think you were so excited that I actually agreed to—"

"Come here that I completely forgot! That sounds about right. This is Jardin. You must've heard about it."

"From you, if no one else," said Hermione. "I seem to recall you telling me how Harry took you here once when he needed to apologize to you for something or other. Though I really don't care to remember the rest of that particular conversation, seeing how that was before I taught you how not to overshare and all."

"Prude," said Ginny lightly. She gestured with her hand, indicating which door they would take out of the Apparition chamber. Their banter continued as they made their way to the front of the restaurant and only ended when they reached their destination. Ginny spoke briefly with the headwaiter, who informed them that the rest of their party had arrived earlier and was therefore already seated. A minute later they were on their way once more, being led to their party's table by the headwaiter. Hermione shivered. She felt as though everyone was staring at her and Ginny as they walked through the restaurant, and it wasn't a sensation she enjoyed.

Both Harry and Oliver rose to their feet as the two witches approached the table. "Ginny! Hermione!" cried out Harry in greeting. He kissed Ginny on the cheek before turning to give Hermione a hug. "You're late! I was beginning to wonder if I had gone to the wrong restaurant or something."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And has that happened to you before, Harry?"

"Don't ask," said Ginny. "Please don't. Let's just say sometimes Harry hears something entirely different from what I've actually said."

"You two sound like an old married couple," said Oliver. "Oh that's right! You are!" He laughed loudly then, though his joke could hardly be termed funny, and her friends half-heartedly chuckled along with him. It was all Hermione could do not to sigh however. She didn't think that this was an auspicious start to the evening. But then Ginny caught her eye and glared at her as though to remind Hermione that she had promised to give Oliver a chance. Hermione rolled her eyes once before nodding her head, letting the other witch know that she would stay true to her word. After all, she supposed it was not outside the realm of possibility that Oliver was simply feeling nervous—although frankly she couldn't see what he would be nervous about. She wasn't beautiful enough or charming enough to inspire such a reaction in a wizard. She shook her head and started paying attention to the conversation once more.

"You remember Hermione, right?" Harry was saying.

"Of course." Oliver offered her a grin that was charming indeed. She was willing to bet that he never lacked for female companionship. "The _Impervious_ charm right? I could never forget any Gryffindor whose brilliance helped us win a match."

While Hermione remembered Gryffindor losing that particular match, she didn't correct the wizard; she really didn't want to bring up memories about the seeker who had beat Harry. Instead she smiled at Oliver and mumbled something about it being so nice to see him again before taking her seat next to Ginny. The wizards followed suit. The four of them examined the menu, chatting amiably about what was on it and discussing what to have. They had all decided what to get just before the waiter came by to take their order.

After that, inevitably the conversation turned to Quidditch. And because everyone else at the table could be termed fanatics, they quickly went past the simple topics that Hermione could follow—such as whether England would be able to qualify for the World Cup this time around or not—and moved on to more esoteric items. Hermione listened with half an ear as the three fanatics around her kept babbling on about Quidditch.

"So Morgan had a stroke of genius one day," Oliver was explaining to Harry and Ginny, "and thought of a way to improve the Wronski Feint. See it never was all that effective if you're up against a seeker who has quicker reaction times than you since when you pulled up that was all the warning they needed."

"That was never a problem for me," Harry muttered.

"Oh hush," said Ginny. "Have I ever told you that a huge ego is not attractive on a wizard?"

Oliver continued on with his explanation as though he hadn't heard them. "What this new variant does is bring the rest of the team in on the fun. The seeker times his dive just as his team's beaters gain control over the bludgers—well as much control as can be had over them. It takes a lot of coordination but if you get everything just right then when the other side's seeker pulls up, it's bam! Two bludgers right to the head, and he's out for the match."

Hermione winced. "I imagine there's been a run of head injuries from that maneuver," she noted.

Oliver shot her a strange look. "Well of course. That's Quidditch. It wouldn't be Quidditch if a team made it through a season without at least one serious injury. And by serious, I mean career ending, not just some namby-pamby concussion."

Hermione opened her mouth and then shut it. "My bad," she said through gritted teeth. "I completely forgot that sanity has no place in Quidditch."

Ginny laughed nervously. She was clearly apprehensive about the rising tension between her friend and the wizard she had hoped to set her up with. "Yes, well, that's why Mum wasn't all that upset when Charlie decided he wanted to work with dragons and all. She said it was a fair sight safer than playing Quidditch professionally," she said lightly, trying to defuse the situation. "I'm not sure if I could say the same about Harry becoming an Auror however," she finished. She jabbed her elbow into Harry's side, prodding him to say something.

"Hmm?" said Harry. He tilted his head to one side. "You know what, I'm not sure which job is more dangerous, that of professional Quidditch player or Auror. Not that being an Auror is a walk in the park, but we're not always out in the field." He shuddered. "More's the pity, I find. I'd much rather be hunting dark wizards than dealing with all the paperwork that invariably follows a successful operation."

"I don't envy you there, mate," Oliver said genially. "Especially as I hear that the paperwork the Ministry generates is endless. Too bad about that paperwork reduction act not passing and all, isn't it? That would've made that part of your job a bit less tedious, I imagine."

Hermione bristled. That was a common misperception amongst those who knew little about the inner workings of the Ministry. She drew herself straight for she wasn't about to let that comment go unchallenged. "Unfortunately it wouldn't have reduced any paperwork for Harry," she said with a toss of her head. "If anything, it would've created more."

"That's not what I heard," said Oliver.

"Oh? And I suppose you're an expert in politics?" Disdain dripped from every word out of Hermione's mouth.

Oliver flushed red and his nostrils flared. "I know more than you think I do," he declared. "I know that the bill was killed because of the limits it placed on paperwork by the some division of Magical Law Enforcement."

"What?" Hermione could feel her hair coming to life and escaping from the style Ginny has spent so much time on. "That bill was killed because the limits were placed so high as to be non-existent. It had become a parody of itself."

"A high limit is better than none. You can't argue with that," Oliver returned. "And do you know what the kicker is? I hear that the same division that killed the bill is the same one doing its level best to put the broom makers of the world out of business all in the name of environmental protection. The whole lot of them are hypocrites, I say."

Hermione saw red, but before she could deliver the dismemberment the idiot in front of her so richly deserved, Ginny rushed to her feet, declared she needed to powder her nose urgently, and then proceeded to drag Hermione along with her to the loo. Hermione silently fumed as she followed the other witch, but she didn't make a sound of protest. It wasn't Ginny she was upset with after all, she reminded herself, not when she knew that all the younger witch ermione saw red. wanted to do was prevent a scene from happening. Which wasn't a bad thing as Hermione didn't want to make the front page of the _Prophet_ for attacking Wood, especially not just after Ron's engagement had been announced. She really didn't need that sort of publicity in her life.

However she wasn't about to just let Wood continue to insult her and her work. No, if he wanted a fight, she was more than willing to prove to him just why the only thing more dangerous than Quidditch was politics.

It didn't take them long to reach the restroom at the pace Ginny had set. Upon seeing that no one else was there, the redhead promptly turned around to cast both a locking charm and a silencing charm. It was only then that she turned to face Hermione. "Well it seems that your hair is a lost cause," she noted with an upwards quirk of her eyebrow. "As well as this date. So much for this first matchmaking attempt of mine."

"Whatever makes you think that?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "I'm sorry, Gin. He's handsome enough and I know we've got friends in common and all—but I just can't stand him! He's a pompous, ignorant git who cares for nothing but Quidditch!" That was only the start of Hermione's rant. She paced back and forth in the small restroom, giving voice to all the faults she had found in Wood in the short time they had spent together. Ginny merely listened and nodded her head at appropriate moments. Hermione went on for several long minutes before she had to pause for breath.

"All right. I get it. So Oliver Wood isn't your type," said Ginny. "If I had known that, I would've never suggested him. But help me out here, Hermione, because I really thought the two of you would hit it off. You do have a penchant for Quidditch players, and let's face it, I don't think you'd want a wizard who would let you walk all over him."

That she did not, Hermione silently agreed as her thoughts immediately leapt to the wizard she couldn't help but long for. She heaved a sigh before speaking. "You're right about that," she told her friend. "My ideal wizard wouldn't be afraid of challenging me. But he'd have the intelligence to do so—which is something Oliver seems to lack—and in a perfect world, he'd care about the things most important to me too." She closed her eyes. That was one thing she had to credit Malfoy for—his commitment to saving magical forests was genuine. And he was definitely intelligent and could hold his own in any debate and breathtakingly handsome to boot. The only thing wrong with him, as far as Hermione was concerned, was that he would never deign to spare her a second glance.

"I'm such a fool. You have someone in mind, don't you?" Ginny whispered. "Who is it? Maybe I could help you…." She trailed off as she saw the hopeless look that crossed Hermione's face. "Oh Hermione! Don't tell me that you're in love in Ron after all!"

Hermione's eyes shot open. "With Ron?" She shook her head, emitting a low chuckle. "Oh no, not with Ron. I don't think I was ever in love with him. Which is a good thing as we're not right for each other. It's only too bad we didn't figure that out before we decided to give it a go. Would've made life a lot easier for the both of us if we hadn't ever tried."

"So who is it?" Ginny pressed.

"Someone I haven't met yet outside of my dreams," Hermione answered with a smile. It wasn't entirely a lie. She hadn't ever met a Malfoy like the one in her dreams.

Ginny regarded her suspiciously but let her statement stand. "Very well then. But I must say I don't think I can find you the wizard of your dreams if that's all the detail you're willing to part with."

"Dreams are just that, dreams. Not real. But someone who won't insult me and my work…that would be nice," said Hermione.

"I'll keep that in mind. So are you ready to go back out there?" asked Ginny. "I'm positive by now Harry has reminded Oliver about being on his best behavior. Knowing how scary Harry can be when he puts his mind to it, I think he'll take that warning to heart this time. Well I hope so at least. I'm positive that Harry said something before we got here, but I suppose I forgot to account for Gryffindor bravery."

Hermione bit back a groan. "More like Gryffindor foolishness," she said. "But fine. Let's go back. Just so long as you'll get out of my way the next time he deliberately provokes me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "The next time he does that, I'll duck, as both you and Harry will be aiming at him. That's why we had to leave. You looked like you were ready to choke him with your bare hands, and Harry would've been happy to clean up after you and finish the job if need be."

"Ah yes. Harry is a good friend."

"And what does that make me?" Ginny asked, resting her hands upon her hips.

"The poor soul currently trying to keep us out of trouble," Hermione readily answered. The two witches laughed at that, and it was with a considerably improved mood that Hermione returned to the dinner table with her friend. Thankfully Ginny's assessment of the situation was correct. Oliver did behave himself for the rest of the evening, proving that he could be a most enjoyable dinner companion when persuaded to. If it wasn't for the verbal altercation they had before, Hermione could see herself wanting to get to know him better. As it was, however, when they parted ways that evening, they were both silent about meeting up again—which was for the best really.

Hermione was exhausted when she finally returned home for the evening. She kicked off her shoes and immediately went to the kitchen, with Shadow hot on her heels. After fixing dinner for the kitten and refilling the water bowl, it was off to bed for her. Hermione had just enough energy to wash up and then slip into her night clothes before she was out like a light.

****

**Author's note: **Sorry for the long wait between updates. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.


	6. Chapter 5

**Fated: Chapter Five**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

_Home, Hermione decided, was in his arms. She snuggled back deeper into his embrace and sighed happily. She had been apprehensive when she had first moved out of her flat to live with him, but she soon found that all the trouble of moving was well worth it for the chance to spend more time with her mate. _

"_A knut for your thoughts?" he whispered softly in her ear. _

"_I wasn't thinking of anything in particular." Though she couldn't see him, she knew he was raising an eyebrow in response to that statement. "Just that I'm so very happy with you."_

_He laughed then, his warm baritone filling the room. "That's no surprise. Just think of all the happiness that we've both missed out on because of you denying your instincts for so long."_

Hermione's eyes opened with a start. "Blast," she swore to herself. She sat up and shook her head, trying to clear it of this last dream. The dreams where he teased her like that were always the worst—they were so lifelike that she could almost believe that if she simply told him that he was her mate, then everything else would fall in to place. Sometimes the dreams were so clear and convincing that she was sorely tempted to do just that.

But she was no fool. She knew that real life was nothing like her dreams. If she ever did tell him—at best he would simply laugh at her and at worst he would make her life miserable with his taunting. No, the best thing for her to do was to keep her mouth shut. It wasn't as though she was unhappy, after all. While she was sometimes lonely, she had her friends and she had her cat and that was enough. That had to be enough.

She pushed back the covers and got out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the cold floor. Hermione hurried over to her dresser so she could pull on a pair of socks. She turned around and looked back at her bed, then smiled and shook her head. Once again, Shadow had taken up a spot in the dead center of the bed, preventing Hermione from making it. Later on the young cat would make an appearance in the kitchen, usually right before her owner had to leave, so she could get fed. It made the witch smile to think that her kitten had already established a routine, despite only living with her for not that long.

Hermione pulled on a dressing robe to ward against the chill. The nights were starting to get noticeably cold, and so later this weekend she would have to set her warming charms up. But for now, however, she intended to take her time and have some breakfast to fortify her before Ginny came over to take her shopping. Thankfully Hermione had plenty of time; the younger witch was never a morning person and liked to have a bit of a lie in on weekends to boot. As such, Hermione didn't expect Ginny to arrive until mid-morning at the absolute earliest.

She padded down the hallway that connected her bedroom to the kitchen. The lights came on as soon as she entered the kitchen as she had spelled them to do so. After starting a pot on the stove, Hermione turned her attention to figuring out what to eat. With a shrug of her shoulders, she decided to take the easy way out and just make toast. It wasn't the most exciting of breakfasts, but she didn't really feel like spending too much time cooking this morning even though she had plenty of time to do so.

Ten minutes later, she was ensconced at the table, sipping tea and nibbling at a piece of toast while reading the _Prophet_. She couldn't help but smile at a short item in the gossip section detailing the sudden split of Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass. It seemed as though Narcissa had been successful in getting her son to leave the silly witch. Unbidden the thought rose up on her head that perhaps Narcissa Malfoy might be willing to intervene on her behalf with Draco. Hermione quickly pushed that thought aside and turned her attention to more practical matters, such as scanning the _Prophet_ for any news that would affect her work.

She didn't find any, which was a good thing as usually the only news she found was bad news, but that also meant she needed to find something else to distract herself and she didn't think the _Prophet_ would cut it. So Hermione got up and dashed into the living room to pick up her copy of _Potions Monthly_ to read that instead. Soon enough she found herself completely engrossed in reading an article discussing the latest advances in healing potions.

She was interrupted halfway through by Shadow showing up to demand her breakfast, but after her cat was fed, she returned to her reading. She mentally took notes, thinking that she might try a couple new techniques the next time she brewed her household healing potions. Hermione had enjoyed potions as a student, despite Snape's best efforts to make the subject miserable for everyone. So rather than just buy potions from a shop, once a month she spent a weekend brewing her own. She liked making her own potions. Not only did that keep her skills current, but it also meant that she knew that only the highest quality ingredients went into her potions. One couldn't say the same about the potions one went out and bought.

Her quiet time was interrupted by the familiar crack of apparition. Hermione looked up from her magazine and blinked. "Ginny?" she said. "You're here already?"

"From that statement and your current attire," said Ginny, "I'm going to hazard a guess that you didn't expect me this early."

"I know you like your sleep," Hermione replied.

"Harry's gone for the weekend, and I've always found it hard to stay in bed without him." She heaved a sigh. "It's just so very lonely without him there to—"

"And this is where I interrupt you before you go into too much detail. Because I just had my breakfast and I really don't want to see it again."

"Ew." Ginny pulled a face. "I did not need that mental image."

Hermione rose from her seat. "Well seeing as you're here, I guess that means I'd better get ready. Don't worry. I shan't take long. There's some tea on the stove and some toast if you like."

"I'll say yes to the tea, but I don't feel like eating right now. I find that I'm not all that hungry because of something that someone just said."

"Sorry," Hermione said before scurrying back to her room. She dressed practically for the day. As they were going shopping for new clothes, she chose a simple set of robes that was easy to get in and out of. After putting her hair up in a French twist and grabbing her bag, she returned to the kitchen. Ginny was sitting at the table, a half-empty cup of tea beside her, and petting Shadow who purring happily in her lap. She arched an eyebrow upon seeing Hermione.

"It's a good thing we're going shopping for new robes for you," remarked the redhead.

Hermione rolled her eyes but decided not to respond to that comment. "Just let me check Shadow's water, and then we can go," she said. "Where did you want to go first anyway? Madam Malkin's?"

"Madam Malkin's? I suppose we could. Did you want to get some work robes too?" Ginny paused and waited for Hermione's nod before continuing to describe her plans for the day. "Then yes, let's go there to start. But for dress robes, there are other shops I want to visit. The robes they have at Madam Malkin's and even at Gladrags just can't compare," she declared, wrinkling her nose. "And you know, you should get more than one set as there's certain to be several formal events for the wedding and all."

"I know," said Hermione. "Not to mention there's the gala I'll have to attend at Malfoy Manor," she added.

Ginny tilted her head to the side. "What gala at Malfoy Manor? I hadn't heard of one."

Hermione flushed. She shouldn't have told Ginny that as it wasn't public knowledge yet. "Oh. That," she mumbled. "Well I can't go into the details, but let's just say that the Malfoys are helping my boss out with something and part of their help includes hosting an event for us. Don't tell anyone else please. The invitations haven't gone out yet and—"

"Don't worry. My lips are sealed," said Ginny. "Since it's at Malfoy Manor that must mean that Narcissa Malfoy is planning it, and I wouldn't want to bring down the ire of that witch upon your head. She is scary when she's angry."

"That she is, and I especially don't want to cross her because she is helping out my department and all. She was perfectly pleasant to me yesterday, and it's best if I don't give her a reason to stop being so."

"You met with her yesterday? When?"

"Before I went over to your place," answered Hermione. "Long story short I'll be meeting with her for the next several weeks about this event she's planning for us. And I'll be expected to attend it and so I'll need to look my best."

"Makes sense." Ginny smiled. "And here I thought I'd have to twist your arm to get you to buy more than one set of dress robes."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She could understand why Ginny had been concerned about that. She had thought about what her friend had said the other night and had come to the conclusion that it was high time she update her wardrobe. She could easily afford it after all. "Well as you said, it has been a long time since I bought anything for myself."

"Aside from books, that is."

"That goes without saying. You would know something is wrong if I went a week without picking up a new book," Hermione stated.

"Yes, I would think you were ill if that happened. Whereas not buying food or clothes for yourself is perfectly normal behavior," Ginny said teasingly. "But let's get going. I want to hit the stores while you still feel like treating yourself for once." Hermione nodded her agreement. The two witches Apparated to Diagon Alley separately, neither of them all that fond of side-along Apparition. They made a quick stop at Gringotts, so Hermione could take out some additional funds, before heading over to Madam Malkin's.

Hermione made a beeline towards a rack of black robes, thinking it would be good idea to get a few new outfits in the color for the times when Shadow really started to shed. She had picked out a handful of them to try on when Ginny came running over.

"Hermione! Please don't tell me that's the only color of robes you're going to get!" Ginny cried.

The brunette arched one eyebrow up. "Why not? It is a classic color," she said. She kept her tone and mien serious, while inwardly hiding a smile as she enjoyed this chance to pull her friend's leg.

Ginny rolled her eyes and gave a small sigh of exasperation. "Yes, it is…but it would be such a shame. You look so good in deep rich colors that you shouldn't really limit yourself like that."

"Is that so?" Hermione allowed herself a small smirk.

"Hermione Granger! You're having me on, aren't you?" exclaimed Ginny. Hermione's smirk only grew wider which prompted her friend to sigh in exasperation before grabbing her arm to pull her towards another rack. The two of them went through the different racks, picking out robe after robe. Once their arms were overflowing with clothes, they retreated to the fitting room so that Hermione could try on each set. For the next hour, she methodically tried them all on. She would strip, pull on a new set of robes, and then duck out of the dressing room to model them for Ginny. When they were finally done, Hermione walked up to the register with ten new outfits, seven of which she actually liked. She was only buying the other three only because Ginny insisted she looked absolutely fantastic in them.

"That went better than I expected," Ginny said as they walked out of the shop side by side. "I didn't think you'd listen to me half as much."

"Is that your roundabout way of calling me stubborn?"

"Not at all. I'd never bother to say such a thing because you're too stubborn to admit that you are," Ginny replied flippantly. "Well then, on to the next shop."

"And that reminds me. I was surprised that you didn't get anything. Are you sure you're feeling all right? We can go home if you're not."

"Not a chance," Ginny said quickly. "Besides we haven't even got you any dress robes. And for your information, I would have liked to have got myself several things but I promised Harry I'd be good. Our closets are already stuffed full with my robes."

"Ever heard of a shrinking charm?" asked Hermione with an upwards arch to her brow.

"I have. But you can only shrink them so small before you start to damage the integrity of the garment."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Wow," she said, "I didn't realize you had that many clothes."

"I can't help it. It's really a bad habit of mine. I never had much growing up, you know, and now that I can buy pretty much anything I like…well impulse control is something I have to work on. And so far today, I've been good. Let's just hope that it continues." She heaved a sigh and pitched her shoulders forward. "Especially in the next shop we're going to visit. I swear, Hermione, they have the loveliest dress robes you'll ever see."

And Ginny wasn't exaggerating. When they arrived at the shop, Hermione couldn't help but stop and stare at the dress robes on display in the window. She never thought of herself as an especially girly witch but there was something about the robes that made her fingers itch to touch them. "They're so pretty," she said quietly.

"See what I mean about how the dress robes at Madam Malkin's and Gladrags just can't compare?" asked Ginny.

"No, they can't, can they?" Hermione agreed. The two friends glanced at each other, then burst into giggles. Arms linked together, they entered the store. A bare handful of minutes later, the two friends were headed towards the fitting room with Ginny having just as many robes to try on as Hermione despite her attempts at being good.

While Hermione was removing the first garment from the hanger, she caught sight of the price tag. She blanched. "Ouch," she muttered. "Talk about your sticker shock. It's more than I expected, but I suppose you're paying for the quality and all." She rubbed the soft silk of the robe between her fingers and sighed. She had a feeling that she wouldn't be able to afford all the robes she liked here, and so some hard decisions were going to have to be made. But then she supposed that was what Ginny was for—to help make those hard decisions. That was one reason to agree to go shopping with her clothes-mad friend.

In the end, Hermione walked out with only two new sets of robes while Ginny had purchased one. There were at least half a dozen others Hermione wanted to buy, but Ginny had insisted that Hermione hold back until they finished looking at all other stores on their itinerary for the day. Hermione had pointed out that if she blew her budget here then they could simply cut their shopping trip short, but the look Ginny had shot her at that suggestion let her know that she wasn't going to get off that easily. Their visits to the other stores on Ginny's list went much the same. Both witches had to assert their self-control and not buy everything they liked.

"All right," said Ginny. "There's just one more robesmaker I want to visit before calling it a day and heading on over to the spa."

"Another?" asked Hermione.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And here I thought you were rather enjoying yourself. You have to admit that these small shops I've been taking you to have robes that are a step up from those offered elsewhere."

"Oh definitely so. But that also comes with a corresponding increase in price," Hermione replied. She sighed softly. "I've already spent more today than I had planned."

"You're telling me," Ginny muttered, half to herself. "I don't know what I'm going to say to Harry. I'm going to have to start stashing robes in the guest room."

"You could try getting him the newest broom and hope that it distracts him," suggested Hermione.

"Been there. Done that. Prefer not to remember how miserably that failed." Ginny shuddered. "Or the lecture I got afterwards. Honestly. Sometimes I think he takes after my mum!"

"I'd love to hear you tell him that."

"I'm no fool, thanks. But trust me, I've saved the best for last. Let's go."

Hermione acquiesced. It was easier than belaboring the point and quite likely quicker too. So she followed her friend through Diagon Alley and to the last robesmaker they were going to visit today. Almost immediately after setting foot in the shop, Hermione could tell that it was different from all the rest. For one, it wasn't half as crowded as any of the other places. For another, there were no price tags on any of the robes.

"Ginny!" Hermione grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to one side. "Just how expensive is this place anyway?" she asked sotto voce.

"Well if you have to ask…." Hermione shot her an annoyed glance, and the redhead got the hint. "Let's just say the cost of one set of robes here could be used to buy a handful at any of the other shops we've visited. But I thought that it would be prudent to get something for you here after what you told me this morning. I have it on the best authority that Narcissa Malfoy shops here on occasion, and if you're going to be helping with you-know-what…well you'll want to look the part."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Hermione, "but can I afford it?"

"I think the question is can you afford not to. Don't worry, my treat."

Hermione twisted her mouth. "I appreciate the sentiment but—"

"No, I insist. I completely forgot to warn you to save some galleons for here, and so this is my way of making it up to you." Then she winked at her friend. "And for apologizing to you, if you will, for how bad that last date went."

"That's an awfully expensive apology," noted Hermione.

"It was an awfully bad date. Or so I thought?" Ginny shot her a curious look.

"Oh no, you're right about that. It was bad. Sorry Gin, but I was ever so glad when it was finally over."

"I'll do better next time, I promise," said Ginny fervently. "But for now, let's try to find you the perfect dress for that event of yours."

"No one's supposed to know about that, remember?" coughed Hermione as she scanned the area to make certain no one had overheard.

"I do, I do. Don't worry, I shan't spill the beans. Oh!" Ginny took off and dashed across the room. "You simply must try this one on," she said, picking up a set of robes in a deep ruby red. "I think it'll look brilliant on you."

"It would also make quite a statement," Hermione said wryly.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Some things can't be helped, and it's not a bad thing that you can actually wear our house colors. Unlike me. Wearing any shade of red with my hair is a disaster."

"Yes, but you look lovely in green—a color that just happens to match your husband's eyes."

Her friend smiled. "I know it's silly, but I like matching that way," she said. "And speaking of green, that looks good on you too. Let's find you some robes in the color to try on too." She twisted her head around to look around the shop, and soon Hermione was holding on to two emerald robes in addition to the first set Ginny had chosen. Hermione, not wanting to let her friend pick everything out, snagged indigo robes as well as one in pink. Then once again they headed towards the fitting room.

Hermione changed, deciding to try the pink robes first, as Ginny waited patiently outside for her. Setting outside the room, she twirled around and asked, "So what do you think?"

A dubious look appeared on Ginny's face. "It's pretty but it's not you. Next."

"Really? I rather like it," said Hermione. "I think it looks nice.

"I can tell." Ginny crossed her arms. "And it does look nice, but how can I put this? For as much as it costs, I think it should look better, much better than that. Beside it hides your curves rather than flaunt them."

"You say that as though it's a bad thing."

Ginny looked at her askance. "That's not even funny, Hermione. Go on then—try on the red robes next." Hermione huffed indignantly but did as her friend had requested, returning after she was done to show the robes off.

"Now that's much better," Ginny said. "Much, much better. I like how it hugs your curves rather than conceal them."

"And it does so without being…well you know." Hermione twirled around in the dress, admiring it. "Still the color—wearing this might seem like a declaration of war."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you're too scared to wear your house colors, Hermione," said Ginny.

"Oh? And I thought you were the one warning me about not getting on Narcissa's bad side."

"Well you definitely want to avoid that if you can. But frankly Hermione, if she's that easily insulted, then you'll do something soon enough to set her off."

"Thanks. Don't know what I'd do without your optimism, Gin."

Ginny ignored that comment. "But as I was going to say before we got sidetracked, this is a better color for you. It really brings out the highlights and the lowlights in your hair." She tilted her head to one side. "And if you wore your hair down—"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Have you forgotten already how well that went last time?" she asked.

"I thought it looked smashingly good up until the point you lost your temper. Your hair had a mind of its own after that."

"My hair always has a mind of its own," Hermione quipped before going back in to try on one of the green dress robes. Of the two green sets, the two witches were of the same mind. Those robes simply weren't as flattering to Hermione as the one in red. It was with a great sense of relief that Hermione went back into the fitting room one last time to try on the final dress robes for the day. However, it was a bit more complicated to put on that the rest of them. There was a series of ribbons to be tied shut on the back of the indigo dress. Hermione was able to tie the bottom two with no problem but soon realized she would need her friend's help to finish the rest.

Of course that was when Ginny let out first an astonished gasp, then a high-pitched squeal. "I didn't see that before!" she exclaimed. "I've got to try it on!"

"But I—" Hermione tried to interject.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay?" Before Hermione could protest any further, the redhead was gone.

Hermione sighed. She looked at herself in the mirror, the dress hanging from her frame, and then reached for her wand. She would have to use a spell and hope that the alarms that were surely on the dressing room wouldn't go off simply because she used magic to lace up the back. Luck was with her thankfully, and she was able to finish tying the ribbons without any other problems. She turned back to the mirror to see how she looked.

This was the dress.

There was simply no comparison with any of the robes she had tried on earlier. While other robes had flattered her, this one made her look graceful and elegant and as though she belonged at a fancy ball. This would be the one she would buy. Her decision made, Hermione cracked the door open a bit and peeked her head outside to check for Ginny. While she appreciated the offer to buy the gown for her, Hermione wasn't about to take advantage of her friend like that, especially not when she could afford it on her own. She scanned the shop for Ginny, knowing that she would have to make it to the register without being spotted otherwise the redhead would insist on paying. She saw no signs of her friend's telltale bright hair, but unfortunately she saw something worse—a patch of shockingly white platinum blond hair.

"Blast," she swore as she realized that Malfoy was here with his mother and that they were both headed her way. Hermione quickly retreated to the safety of her fitting room. She crossed her fingers, hoping that the Malfoys would change direction. Of course they didn't, and within seconds, she was able to hear their conversation for they had evidently stopped at the clothes rack closest to the fitting rooms.

"Well you cannot blame me for wanting some confirmation," Narcissa was saying in a reasonable tone of voice.

"And here I thought you trusted me, Mother," said Draco plaintively.

"Trust you? Never. You are far too manipulative and cunning for me to simply take you at your word. I know you better than that."

"I'm hurt, Mother, truly I am."

"Thank you, my dear boy, for proving my point. You are manipulative to the extreme. Rather like your father in that regard."

"As if you're not worse than the both of us combined," Malfoy scoffed. "The way you finagled a promise from me to spend the day with you this morning is a fine example of that."

"I'm crushed, Draco. You mean you don't want to spend the day with your dear, old mother?" Narcissa said with an affected tone.

"When it involves you shopping for robes—no, not really."

"I lay the blame for your blunt manners on your father's side of the family as well," the older witch sighed. "Very well if that's the way you feel, then you may leave."

"Really?" Hermione didn't need to see her mate to know that he perked up at that suggestion.

"On one condition, of course."

"Which would be?"

"Stop antagonizing Hermione Granger. Your ongoing feud with her does no one any good."

Hermione had to stifle a gasp. The last thing she had ever expected was for Narcissa to intercede for her with Draco, especially not so soon. She couldn't help but hope he would agree to his mother's request. While it wouldn't be the same as having her mate, it would do her a world of good to at least be on cordial terms with him.

Her hopes were instantly dashed the second Malfoy opened his mouth. "But Mother! Granger is just so…so…so annoying!" he huffed. She could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves, proving once again just how much he despised her. "Whenever I see that stubborn little bi—argh!"

Hermione held back a moan of despair as she slid down to the floor. _I will not cry_, she thought furiously. _It's not as though I didn't know how he felt about me before this. I've known from the start that I haven't got a chance with him. Hearing this—it's just confirmation, that's all. It's not anything I didn't know. _She bit her lip and took a long, shuddering breath. It still hurt to hear just what he thought of her. She thought that her heart had already been pretty much broken, but hearing those words just shattered what pieces that remained. Hermione could hear the conversation continuing outside, but she was in no shape to pay much attention to the words being exchanged.

"Sometimes I think we spoiled you too much," Narcissa told Draco, "and that was nothing if not the reaction of a spoiled little boy who can't get what—"

"I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. It is not like that at all."

"Maybe, maybe not. In any event, you will conduct yourself accordingly when Miss Granger around. Now we can either do this the hard way or the easy way, but I will not take no for an answer."

"Fine. I'll behave. You have my word. May I go now?"

"Very well. I'll see you at dinner." Malfoy let out a huge sigh of relief, followed by the sounds of him all but running out of the shop. Hermione thought it would be easier for her to concentrate once her mate was gone, but alas her heart insisted on mourning. She took a deep breath, in an attempt to gather herself, but to no avail. She knew that she should get up and check whether if she could leave without being seen, but she was having trouble summoning up the will to do so.

It was only when she remembered that she wanted to make her escape before Ginny showed up again that Hermione was able to find the strength to raise herself up off the ground. Her legs shaky, she quietly stepped over to the door. She opened it a crack and took a look outside. She sighed as she caught sight of Narcissa perusing a rack of robes not all that far from her room. Given the other witch's current position, there was no way Hermione could leave—she simply didn't want to chance the blonde putting two and two together and figuring out that Hermione had eavesdropped on her conversation with her son.

Then Hermione spotted Ginny making her way back to the fitting room. Hermione opened the door further, waving her hand about to get her friend's attention discreetly. She knew that she had succeeded when Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. Hermione gestured to Narcissa and silently pled for help. Ginny nodded her head gravely once and then trotted over to the older witch.

"Narcissa Malfoy?" said Ginny. "What a surprise! I don't believe I've seen you since my wedding. Harry was so glad that you were able to make it. How have you been?" Ginny's broad smiled was echoed on Narcissa's face, and soon enough the two of them were conversing, giving Hermione the chance she needed.

Hermione exited the fitting room and proceeded towards the register, taking care to duck down when she was within a couple arms lengths of the two witches so she could sneak past them by hiding behind the clothes racks. As she slipped by them, she overheard Ginny feeding the blonde witch some story about meeting up with her friends at Flourish and Blotts later. Hermione knew that was the redhead's way of telling her where they would meet up later. She paid for the indigo robes at the register and then promptly fled the scene.

Her heart still pounding, Hermione walked briskly towards Flourish and Blotts. There wasn't anywhere else she needed to go today, and so she thought it was best that she try to find some book to lose herself in. Once inside the shop, she tracked over to the Arithmancy section and looked for the largest tome she could find, hoping that would be enough to distract herself. At first it was hard for her to concentrate and she had to read the same paragraph over and over again. But after awhile, her breathing calmed and her heart rate slowed and presently she became absorbed with all the fascinating equations the book had to offer. She set down her bags and continued to read until a loud cough interrupted her.

"Hello again," said Ginny. "Care to tell me why you were so desperate to avoid your newest friend?" she asked bluntly.

Hermione grimaced, not so much at the question but at the reminder of what Draco had said about her. "Thanks for your help back there. And as for why I needed it—I didn't think she'd appreciate finding out that I had been eavesdropping on the conversation she was having with Draco," she explained.

A furtive look appeared on Ginny's face. "Oh! Hear anything good?"

Hermione shrugged. "No, not really. Just Narcissa trying to get him to be less unpleasant to me and him refusing of course."

"Talk about your lost causes," said Ginny. "But I can see why you didn't want her to know that you had heard all that. "Oh! And that reminds me—this is for you." She passed a small bag over to Hermione.

Hermione frowned as she took it from her friend. "What's this?" she asked.

"That set of red robes you were trying on," replied Ginny. "I wasn't certain if you had got yourself anything or not, so I went ahead and bought it."

"Oh! You shouldn't have. I got the indigo robes. You left before I could show them to you, but trust me, they look—"

"Lovely, I'm sure. And I'm glad to hear you did get yourself something from there as well. After all, a witch can never have too many robes."

"So says the witch who is going to start stashing robes in the spare bedroom," Hermione remarked.

"Oh hush you." Ginny swatted at her arm. "But in any case, are you going to buy that book? Because if you're planning to, you'd best do it now. I have an appointment for us to get a massage, and we're going to be late if we don't hurry."

"Then let's go," said Hermione. "It's a fascinating read, but I can always come back some other time to buy it. Something tells me that it'll still be here."

"Hmm…maybe the fact that it has a small layer of dust?" said Ginny.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just for that, I'll buy it now. I feel sorry for it, really. Poor thing, being passed up day after day by people who wouldn't know a good book if it bit them."

"Hmm…talking to books now, are you? Now I know you've lost it." Ginny sighed. "Well go on then. Go buy it so we can hurry up and relax."

"Oh that makes so much sense," Hermione shot back but with no true aspersion. She did as her friend requested so they could get to their appointment. After all the shopping and all the heartache, she was really looking forward to that massage.

****

**Author's note: **My thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.


	7. Chapter 6

**Fated: Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

It was a good thing that Hermione took Ginny up on her offer of an afternoon at the spa, because her life got very busy after that. On Tuesdays and Thursdays she would leave work early to meet with Narcissa Malfoy. Although their meetings would always start at Malfoy Manor, as the plans for the ball began to take shape, there were excursions to the various shops in Wizarding London and Paris who were responsible for different aspects of the ball. At the end of their meetings Narcissa would invite Hermione to stay for dinner but the young witch would always refuse, inventing some excuse about having something else to do. She didn't want to risk another confrontation with Draco—particularly not one where he had his latest fling by his side.

Work was busy as well for Hermione. She had a standing appointment with her boss first thing on Wednesday morning so she could relay to him the progress being made on both the gala and the new foundation being created. So much of her time was being eaten up by her new assignment that Hermione often tried to work late so she could keep up with everything.

That was not always possible, however, for Ginny's matchmaking plans were in full swing. The first week after that disastrous evening with Oliver, Ginny had sent her out on not one, not two but four dates with four different wizards. While none of the dates had been as explosive as that first one, Hermione had found them all rather dull and lacking. By the time the weekend rolled along, she found herself exhausted by her schedule—so exhausted in fact that she wound up suggesting to her friend that quality was to be preferred over quantity.

The spat that followed with Ginny was not pretty. If Harry hadn't been there to confiscate their wands, it was likely they both would have needed a trip to St. Mungo's afterwards. On the bright side, however, Ginny seemed to have taken Hermione's words to heart—after much prodding by Harry—and so only scheduled one date for Hermione the following week on Friday.

Unfortunately the wizard she had picked out for that one date was Neville Longbottom.

Hermione had no idea just what was running through Gin's mind when she decided to set Hermione up with Neville. Hermione liked Neville very much and all, but there was just no spark between them, something that she had known for a long time. She had thought that Neville had the same opinion, but now she wasn't quite so certain. She hoped that she was right, that he had no interest in her for she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings. Hermione set down her glass of wine and sighed deeply, rubbing the sides of her forehead, feeling the start of a headache coming on.

"That was a big sigh. Is everything all right?" asked Neville, his eyes full of concern.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Hermione sighed again then realized that she hadn't been very convincing. "I'm sorry, Neville. It's just that this"—she waved her hand back and forth between them—"this is all a little…."

"Weird?" he suggested.

"That was what I was thinking, but I didn't want to say it," Hermione admitted. "And you know it's not that I don't like you or that I don't think you're a great wizard and all…but you and me? That's weird."

He nodded his head. "I know exactly what you mean," said Neville.

"You feel the same way then?" she asked.

He nodded his head. "When Ginny told me that I was supposed to meet you for dinner tonight…I wanted to say no, but then she went on and on about how she had already told you and how disappointed you'd be if I backed out and all." He let out a deep breath. "I didn't really believe her, but I wasn't about to say that to her face."

"I can't believe she told you that." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly I love that girl like a sister, but I'm beginning to think that she has no skills when it comes to matchmaking."

"That's a generous assessment of her ability," Neville muttered. "She actually thought me and Parvati would be a good idea."

"Ouch." Hermione winced. She didn't think that ended very well. Neville and Parvati were both likeable people in their own right, but they didn't have very much in common. "I didn't know that you were one of her special projects too," she noted.

"Unfortunately. I asked Harry about it, and he was no help. He just said that this is a phase she's going through and with any luck, it'll be over soon. Personally I think she's broody and that's why she suddenly wants to set us all up."

Hermione perked up. "Really? Did you tell Harry that?" She smirked, thinking of how her friend would react.

He shot her a look of disbelief. "Are you mad? I'd never tell Harry that. Best case scenario, he goes red and blushes whenever he sees me for weeks. Worst case scenario…." Neville shuddered expressively.

This time Hermione's eye roll was for him. "Don't be silly. Harry would never hurt any of his friends."

"Not intentionally no. But Harry can be scary when he's angry," he replied. "Why don't you tell him?"

Hermione smirked. "I think I will. In front of Ron even, if I can manage that." She rubbed her hands together gleefully as she imagined the reactions of her friends.

"Yup, you're definitely a Gryffindor with that twisted notion of fun," Neville stated.

Hermione arched her eyebrow up. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"Well there was a time when everyone wondered why you weren't in Ravenclaw," said Neville. "But I think you've proven since then that you're stubborn enough to be a Gryffindor."

"It takes one to know one," Hermione declared. "But in any case, to get back to our original topic, shall we agree that this isn't really a date?"

"Yes, yes. Let's do that," agreed Neville.

The rest of the evening proceeded pleasantly from there. The ice between them broken, Hermione listened eagerly to her companion as he described how he was spending the year at Hogwarts as Professor Sprout's assistant. "It sounds like you're learning a lot," she commented as he finished up on one story.

"That I am." He glanced over at her then looked away. "What about you, Hermione?" he asked.

"What about me?" she echoed. She shrugged her shoulders. "There's not nothing new for me to report about."

"Oh." His brow furrowed. "Well I um…have to admit that I was…um wondering just why you'd agree to Ginny's mad matchmaking scheme. I mean me—you know me, I have trouble saying no. But you…you've never had problems with that."

"Oh that." She thought for a long moment what to say. The truth—or at least a part of it—was the best answer, she decided. "I guess it's just a bit lonely always being by myself. I got a new kitten recently so that helps but…well it would be nice to have someone to talk to and maybe more. And since I've had no luck finding that someone on my own, I thought I might as well give Ginny a chance to help out." She snorted. "Bad idea, that one."

"You can say that again," said Neville, "especially as you don't really need Ginny's help, now do you?"

Hermione stilled. There was something about the way he phrased that that sent off warning bells in her head. "Well she certainly hasn't been much help," she said cautiously.

Neville actually frowned at her then, a truly rare occurrence. He leaned forward and said, "Hermione. Give me some credit, will you? You know that Herbology is my specialty. I know what that means." He gestured towards the pendant that was always present on Hermione's neck.

Out of reflex, her hand reached out to grasp her seed pendant. Somehow the simple act of holding it never failed to make her feel better. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them to gaze at her companion. "How long?" she asked.

"A few months now," he replied quietly. "I was doing some research in the library when I came across a book about…about forest guardians, let's say." His entire face flushed a deep red, leaving Hermione no doubt about just what sort of details the book contained. "Um…but anyway I was led to believe that you already know who the wizard for you is," he finished awkwardly.

"I do."

He looked questioningly at her. "Then why don't you—"

Hermione shook her head furiously. "No. He doesn't want me, and I refuse to be made the fool."

"How do you know that? Have you even asked him? I'm certain that if you speak to Ron—"

"What?" she exclaimed, taken aback by his assumption. The diners around them all snuck glances at their table at her shout, and Hermione could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She lowered her voice before she continued. "What makes you think that I feel that way about Ron?" she whispered furiously.

"Do you mean to say that you suddenly deciding to date again after he's announced his wedding is just some sort of coincidence?"

She winced. She could see how Neville leapt to such a conclusion. "Well it's not, but not for the reason you think," she said. "I just want to find someone to take along so I don't have to attend all by myself. I don't think that'd be very comfortable."

"I don't think there's any way you'll enjoy seeing your…um…wizard get married to another witch," Neville said.

Hermione sighed then let her head fall forward. "If only life were that easy. But no. It's not. Ron's not the one for me." She smiled sadly. "If he was, I assure you that I would've never let him go. But since he's not…well I always knew he wanted a family of his own and since I couldn't give him that…." She shrugged her shoulders expressively.

Neville stayed silent, looking as though he didn't know quite what to say, and finally settled for just patting her on her hand. "I'm sorry," he said. "But if it's not Ron, then who is it? I find it hard to believe that there's anyone out there who wouldn't want you."

"Oh trust me, there is more than one wizard out there who can't stand me and unfortunately for me, my mate is one of them," she said. "But I'd rather not dwell on such things. There's no point in wallowing in misery and all. So do you expect to stay on at Hogwarts next year too?" she asked before he could follow up with another question as to her mate's identity. Neville raised an eyebrow but acquiesced. Not another word was said that evening about that prickly subject.

* * *

There were few things in life that Hermione hated as much as running late. She liked to be punctual. She liked to be on time. If she had any say in the matter, she would always be on schedule. However, there were times when she didn't really have much control over that.

Tuesday was such a day.

She had woken up late that morning after yet another vivid dream about Malfoy. Those damn dreams were becoming more and more frequent—and what was worse, they kept becoming more detailed as well. This last dream was especially cruel since for not only had Draco been kind and loving towards her the way he never was in real life, she had also been expecting their first child. Knowing that she had to clear her head if she was going to be any use at work that day, she had decided to take a nice hot shower—which had wound up lasting longer that she had expected. And so it was she had arrived at work not one but two hours late.

It was all downhill from there.

So it was she found herself with no choice but to Apparate from her office if she was to make it to her meeting with Narcissa. Usually Hermione preferred to return home first so she could change, but she didn't have much choice today. She would simply have to feel dowdy in her work robes in front of the older witch. It didn't really matter that they were one of her new sets; somehow she always felt inadequate when confronted with the elegant grace of the Malfoy matriarch. _Really_, she thought, _I don't know why I even bother to freshen up in the first place. It's a lost cause._

She closed her eyes so she could firmly pin her destination in her mind. Once that was done, she Apparated away to the woods behind Malfoy Manor with an apology was already forming on her lips as she departed for she knew she was supposed to have been there ten minutes ago.

"I'm so sorry," she said as she arrived. "It's just that today has been so very hectic and—" Then she took a step back as she realized who was standing before her. "What are you doing here?" she snapped at Malfoy. She felt thoroughly discombobulated at the pleased smirk that he had on his lips—something that she was so desperately tempted to kiss away.

"Last I checked I lived here." Malfoy smugly crossed his arms as his smirk only grew wider.

"I meant what are you doing here meeting me," she ground out. "Last I checked, your mother was supposed to be here."

"Touché. But then you were supposed to be here …about thirty minutes ago if I'm not mistaken."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She hated how her damn mate loved being so difficult to deal with. "Try ten. But that doesn't explain where your mother is." She was struck by a sudden burst of fear. "Did something happen? Is she all right?" she asked anxiously.

The smirk finally disappeared from Draco's lips as he ascertained that Hermione's concern was genuine. "My mother is fine," he said. "But like you, her day has been hectic to the say the least, and she is unfortunately still tied up in another meeting."

"I see." Hermione bit her lip. She wondered why Narcissa simply didn't owl her to tell her not to come.

"And that is why she sent me in her stead," Malfoy finished with a flourish.

Hermione blinked. She did not hear him right. "Excuse me," she said. "You can't possibly mean…."

He sighed heavily, which lifted his fringe up momentarily before it fell back down. "I'm afraid I do. Mother has commanded that I accompany you today."

"No," said Hermione quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend an entire afternoon in his presence. At best, she would simply have to endure his ceaseless taunts. At worst, she'd give in to her instincts and make a fool of herself. "I think it's best that we reschedule. I can come back tomorrow if Narcissa is available then." She was almost babbling, but she couldn't help it. The logical, rational side was all but frantic with the need to get away from him but there was a part of her that longed to launch herself at him and never let him go. She screwed her hands up into fist as she fought to remain in control.

"Believe it or not, I suggested that she owl you with that request. However it appears that her schedule is already full for tomorrow."

"Well there's always Thursday. We're supposed to meet then anyway."

"I mentioned that to her as well. She almost took off my head, reminding me that the ball is only two weeks away and that there is still so much to do."

"Then I can go by myself." Hermione nodded her head. That was her best idea yet. This way they wouldn't fall behind schedule in planning, and she would be able to make her escape from her blasted mate.

"That is not possible," he said. The sharp look he gave her was inscrutable. "I've already promised Mother that I would help you. I know better than to break such a promise to her—and she has threatened me with the most dire of consequences if I don't behave around you. So I am afraid you'll have to swallow your dislike and deal with me today."

Hermione chewed her lower lip. It was almost as though Narcissa wanted her to spend more time with Draco. Belatedly she remembered the conversation she had overheard between the two of them the other day. Perhaps this was the older witch's way of trying to get the two of them to make amends. It was underhanded and sneaky and just like a Slytherin. _Little does she know what I'd really like to do to him. But no—don't think such thoughts. You've got to remain in control else you're certain to make a fool out of yourself today, Hermione,_ she scolded herself sharply.

"Fine," she said. "I expect that we can behave civilly to one another for the space of one afternoon." She looked up at him expectantly. His head tilted to one side as he digested her words. Hermione took advantage of the moment to admire his handsome profile. It wasn't often that she could do so; usually he was too busy spewing insults at her and she was too busy trying to flee to really look at him. She couldn't deny that fate had had good taste when selecting her mate, although she dearly wished it had also chosen a wizard who didn't despise her. Then at least she would have had a chance.

After a long moment of silence, he spoke once more. "Yes I suppose we can. You can rest assure that I shan't be unpleasant if you're not. Very well then. Let's be off."

He reached out a hand towards her. Hermione looked at his hand and then at hers. A worried expression covered her face as she grasped that Malfoy intended to Apparate them to their destination. _Oh dear. This is not good. I'm not wearing any gloves. If I have to touch him—much less touch him while he's doing magic...I can't see that ending well._

She was startled out of her thoughts by Malfoy stepping forward and roughly grabbing her arm. Hermione shuddered as a frission of pleasure ran down her spine. The feel of his skin upon hers—she knew this moment would haunt her dreams for nights to come.

However Malfoy mistook the expression on her face to be one of disgust rather than delight. "I'm not about to bite, you know," he said, sounding slightly exasperated.

"I know. But side along Apparition has never been my favorite. If you just let me know where we're going, I'll meet you there."

He cocked up an eyebrow at her then smirked. "Seeing how I don't believe you've been to Verdant, the restaurant that we're—"

Hermione's brow furrowed. She thought that they were going to visit a couple of flower shops to pick out the table arrangements. "Wait a second. We're going to a restaurant. Why?"

"To pick out the food for the ball Mother has been planning, of course." He had the audacity to roll his eyes at her.

"But we already did that ages ago," Hermione protested. That was one of the first tasks that she and Narcissa had finished. Hermione remembered very clearly how Narcissa had insisted that good food and lots of it was of the utmost importance to any gathering, be it simple or grand. She couldn't very well disagree with that sentiment, and the two witches had spent an entire afternoon at one of Narcissa's favorite caterers nailing down what the menu would be for the evening.

"Of course you did. Mother is nothing but methodical when it comes to planning one of her events," Malfoy agreed readily. "But unfortunately it appears that there has been some…issues with the caterer. She has been going back and forth with them, but it is still not settled. So she wants us to go and pick out an alternate menu at Verdant just in case."

"Now that's a surprise," she muttered. "Seeing how she went on and on about how reliable they were…I didn't think there'd be any issues with them."

"I have to agree with you there, especially since upsetting Mother is not the way to get repeat business from her." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? But that is one of the reasons why she has been so busy today. Now it's high time we get going. We're going to be late enough as is." That was all the warning Hermione received before he Apparated the two of them away.

Hermione swayed back and forth on her feet as they arrived, absolutely enraptured by having all of her senses engaged by him. She loved the soft feel of his hands upon her. With each breath she took, she became further intoxicated by his scent. And then there was his magic which lingered, so palpable that it was like a cloak enveloping her.

"Granger? Granger, are you all right?" She looked up to see him peering down at her. He bent his head towards her as he examined her with care.

Hermione stared back at him. She was completely enchanted with his eyelashes that framed his silver eyes, with his sharp nose that was just a smidge too pointy to be considered classical, and with his mouth, which looked so very warm and soft and inviting—so much so that she forgot all the reasons why she had to ignore her instincts. She slowly rose up on her toes, intent on closing the distance between her and her mate.

However before she could do so, Draco turned aside, yelling at the wait staff to show them to their table. Her disappointment only lasted a moment for soon he drew her to his side as he escorted her through the restaurant. She all but clung to him, resting her head against his shoulder, as they walked. Hermione felt as though she was in a dream—never had he ever fussed over her so much. Her fuzzy state of happiness continued as he held out her chair for her to sit in once they reached their table before taking the seat across from her.

Then he opened his mouth, and the illusion was ruined. "Blast it, Granger," he said with a fierce grimace, "if I had known side along affected you this much, I would have Apparated on ahead and sent back a portkey for you to use."

Hermione gave a start as his harsh words eroded her stupor "Well I did warn you," she said indignantly. She started to shake as she took in just how close she had come to revealing her secret and having him reject her yet again.

"I didn't know it was this bad," Malfoy mumbled grumpily, but he waved down a waiter and imperiously demanded that a shot of firewhisky be brought for Hermione to help calm her nerves. She was of a mind to refuse at first, thinking that the last thing her self control needed was alcohol but gave in after deciding that she really did need something to fortify herself.

"All better?" he asked after she set the glass down.

"Much," she replied. "Let's get started."

"Good idea." He withdrew a small piece of parchment from his robes. "Mother has given us very clear instructions. We are to select a veritable battalion of appetizers, at least three entrees, and a variety of small desserts along with one or two flavors of cake."

Hermione winced. "Just as well that I didn't eat much of a lunch today. It sounds like she's planning to order enough food to feed an army."

"That is Mother's usual _modus operandi_," Draco agreed, "although she might very well look at our selections and then further narrow them down. That way she can avoid having to try one of everything on the menu here."

Hermione raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Narcissa had warned her that Slytherins rarely do anything for one reason, and Hermione fancied that she had just figured out why Narcissa had sent Malfoy with her today—not only would the older witch get to test her son's ability to be civil towards Hermione, she would also be able to spare her hips the massive amounts of food that they were about to consume.

They agreed that it made the most sense to start with the appetizers. Draco signaled at a waiter that they were ready to start their tasting, and in scarcely a minute, the table before them was absolutely covered in food. Hermione gamely made her way through everything, taking a bite here and a bite there. She soon figured out that there was a pattern to the dishes Malfoy selected—he had a bit of a sweet tooth and so favored everything sweet. Hermione preferred more savoury items herself. Between the two of them, they managed to pick a good cross section of appetizers.

Malfoy gave another hand signal, and the two of them then moved on to the entrees. Hermione uttered a small groan as she took in all the food before them. She was already stuffed from the appetizers. She didn't know how she was going to manage to try one of each dish before her, much less one of all the desserts.

"Just try the ones you think you'll like," Malfoy advised her with a knowing look, his tone almost kindly. "Otherwise you will be of no use when the desserts arrive."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "You can say that again. I'm not certain how much help I'm going to be with this." She waved a hand at all the food on the table. She sighed before picking up her fork once more. She was willing to let Malfoy take the lead for this round, and at the end he had picked four dishes to her one.

Despite the fact she had paced herself, she was still ready to mutiny when the desserts arrived. "Oh let's just get them all," she muttered. "I doubt they'll go to waste," she added as she eyed Draco, who was busy cramming an éclair into his mouth. Watching him inhale dish after dish reminded her that Malfoy was distantly related to Ron.

Malfoy rolled his eyes but didn't say anything, focusing instead on chewing his food and swallowing it. Hermione was grateful for that; one thing she hated about her friend was the fact that he had never learned not to talk with his mouth full. "I can't say I dislike the idea," Malfoy said when he was finished, "but I don't think there's any need to rush. It would be a shame not to try everything."

"Yes, but will you have any room left for cake?"

"Cake!" His eyes lit up with glee. "To think, I'd forgotten about the cake. Let's move on to that right away." He eagerly flagged down a waiter, telling him they were now ready to taste test the cakes. Malfoy's eyes kept growing rounder and rounder as cake after cake was set before them.

Hermione made her selection fairly quickly—a white cake with a light Italian buttercream as the frosting. Malfoy, however, was bound and determined to sample everything. Hermione could only watch in horror as he sampled three white cakes, five varieties of chocolate cake, a carrot cake, a cinnamon cake, and half a dozen more. He finally settled on a dulce de leche cake that was far too sweet for Hermione's taste but that he seemed to enjoy.

Hermione sighed happily as she folded up her napkin. All in all, the afternoon had gone fairly well. Not only did they complete their task for the day, but Malfoy had been very pleasant and considerate towards her the entire time. A small part of her couldn't help but think that maybe there was some hope for her after all—that maybe if she kept spending time with him like this eventually he would warm up to her. It was silly but she found herself toying with the idea of asking if he would meet her for the weekend. She would have to manufacture a reason of course, but if it meant getting to see her mate again, Hermione thought she would be able to come up with a halfway decent lie.

But then Malfoy stood up and roughly pushed his chair in. "Well, Granger, I hope that I have earned a good review," he said. "If you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to." With that, he strode off, leaving her and her hopes and dreams far behind.

* * *

**Author's note: T**hanks to everyone reviewed the last chapter. I hope you like this chapter too. I should have another update for this fic in a couple of weeks.


	8. Chapter 7

**Fated: Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione checked a sigh yet again, not wanting to upset her hostess. She felt as though she wasn't being very useful to Narcissa this afternoon as the older witch seemed to have everything well in hand as she ran through all the lists the two of them had made for the gala.

"And I think everything is set," the blonde said, putting down her last list on the table. "Barring any last minute changes, of course," she added.

"Like the other day with the catering, right?" said Hermione. "I do hope you thought our selections were fine."

"Oh they were," Narcissa said with a wave of her hand. "But of course it was after you and Draco had gone to the trouble of picking everything out, that our original order got back on track. But have no fear—I'll use that menu for the next event I plan."

"Oh? You have another ball to plan already?" Hermione asked. She hadn't realized just how busy Narcissa kept with planning social functions.

"No, not yet. But without a doubt something will come up." The older witch grinned wickedly. "Something always does, even if I sometimes have to prod people into action."

Hermione blinked. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind the other witch's words, but she couldn't parse what it was. She stored that tidbit of conversation, certain that eventually she would have a flash of inspiration as to what Narcissa was referring to. She returned her attention to the other witch who was now asking her a question.

"—I hope," Narcissa finished and looked expectantly at Hermione.

Hermione winced. Because she hadn't been paying attention, she didn't know what the blonde was asking about. There was nothing for her to do but to ask for the question to be repeated. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't quite catch that."

A frown marred Narcissa's face. "I was asking about how your afternoon with Draco was the other day, when you were busy picking out the alternate menu."

"Oh." So that was what Draco's cryptic comment about earning a good review was about. He must have known then that his mother would inquire as to his behavior the next time she saw Hermione. She had known from the start that he was only being nice to her because his mother insisted, but he had acted so well that she had begun to believe that maybe he didn't hate her as much as she had thought. Narcissa's question, however, brought her back to earth; clearly Draco couldn't stand her. However he had been on his best behavior, and she wasn't about to say otherwise.

"It was pleasant enough. I had a good time," Hermione admitted. "I was glad to have your son there actually. At least there was someone who was able to try a bite of everything. I fear that I failed miserably in that regards."

Her admission made Narcissa laugh, the sound of which warmed the room. "I've had the same problem myself in the past," she said. "I suppose that explains why your dessert selection was so large. Draco has always had a sweet tooth."

"I'm afraid that was my fault," said Hermione. "I knew I'd never make it to the cake so I suggested we take all the desserts."

"And of course once you said the magic word—cake—Draco was all too willing to agree to that."

"Yes. I'm surprised he didn't have a stomach ache afterwards with all the cake he ate."

Narcissa laughed again before telling Hermione that was exactly what had happened. "Fortunately," she added, "we have a potion recipe in my family that works miracles on stomach aches. I have always kept a batch on hand ever since Draco was a little boy."

"I see," said Hermione. She didn't know what else to say and so decided to change subjects. She was curious about their plans for next week for there didn't seem anything else left to do. Thus it didn't seem likely that they would have their normal meetings. "So for next week, do you still want to meet at our normal time?" she asked.

"Yes, let's do that. Because if we don't, then without a doubt multiple disasters will strike," Narcissa said. "On Tuesday we can check in with everyone just to make sure all our orders are on track and will be delivered as promised. As for Thursday…well barring any crisis arising, I would like to have a little bit of a celebration."

She leaned forward in her seat and clasped her hands together in girlish excitement. "I do hope you can make it. I can't have anything like that on Saturday. We'll be too busy. And that reminds me that I'll need you to be here by noon to help with the final preparations. But Thursday will be a time for us to relax and congratulate each other on a job well done at dinner." Narcissa pursed her lips together as frown lines appeared on her forehead. "Oh! Would you be able to make it? I should have asked you earlier, seeing how busy your schedule normally is."

Hermione froze in her seat momentarily. She didn't really want to stay around the manor any longer than necessary for fear of running into Draco. However there wasn't any way she could refuse Narcissa's gracious invitation without being rude. So instead she nodded her head and smiled weakly at the other witch. "I'd be happy to come," she said simply.

"Good!" The blonde witch beamed at her. "Don't worry. It won't be anything fancy like the ball. It will just be a small, informal dinner with us along with the Malfoy males." She rolled her eyes. "And that's only because I've learned from experience not to leave them to their own devices right before any major event. Because believe you me, between Draco and his father, they will do just about anything to not to have to attend."

"Really?" Hermione was curious. Malfoy had always seemed to be such a dutiful son. This was a side of him that she hadn't ever heard about.

"Oh yes. Though to be fair, I am not entirely certain that it is on purpose. But take the ball I threw a couple years back for Valentine's. Draco managed to break both of his legs in a freak Quidditch accident, and so spent the entire evening in bed, recovering."

"Ah. I take it you've banned him from playing Quidditch the week of any major event now."

Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "No, not exactly. That has been a rule of mine ever since he got his first broom. That day, however, Draco evidently decided it was the perfect time to sort through his old Quidditch gear and well…to make a long story short, somehow the Bludgers got lose and the rest was history."

Hermione blinked. "And that was an accident?"

"So he claims. And his father backs him up on it." She sighed softly. "It can be so hard being the only witch in the house."

Hermione held back a smile. The older witch's complaint sounded something very much like what her dad would say when she and her mum joined forces against him. Of course she had used that line herself whenever Harry and Ron were being especially foolish and deaf to her advice. "Sometimes I feel the same way around my friends," Hermione noted.

Narcissa's eyes brightened. "Oh! They will be attending, right?"

Hermione nodded her head. "They better be if they know what's good for them. They did send back their RSVP's, I believe."

"That they did, but generally everyone does. That doesn't mean everyone who says they're going to attend is actually there."

"Well Harry and Ron will be here if I have to drag them through the door myself." Hermione made a mental note to remind her friends when she saw them tomorrow that it was imperative that they attend, despite their feelings about the Malfoys. She knew that Harry had more or less put the past behind him, and he did seem to be sympathetic towards the situation Malfoy had been put in while they were still students. Ron, however, was infamous for holding a grudge. She would simply have to make it perfectly clear to them when she saw them tomorrow how important this new foundation being created by the Malfoys was to her.

* * *

One of the saddest things about growing older and leaving school was that eventually you began to lose track of old friends as everyone became busy with their own lives. After a few months where they had only seen each other in passing, the trio had decided that the best way to combat the trend of them growing apart was to arrange a regular get together for just the three of them.

So it was that once a month, usually on a Friday or Saturday night, Hermione would host a dinner at her flat for her best friends. Hermione had volunteered for that duty as she had figured it was the most convenient arrangement since she lived alone. Their activities on such evenings varied. They always started by eating at her flat, but afterwards they would sometimes go out and explore Muggle London. Other times they would stay in; Harry would challenge Ron to a game of wizard's chess while Hermione would read, perched on a seat beside them.

Tonight was one such night that they elected to stay in. All of three of them had had very busy weeks and so none of them had the energy to go out. Hermione hadn't even bothered to cook. After work, she had dropped by her favorite Indian place and ordered enough take away to make her boys happy. Harry had arrived at her place shortly after she got back home with Ron only a few minutes behind him. Both Harry and Ron had made a beeline towards her kitchen, where she had laid the food out on the table. The inviting aromas were all the invitation they needed to sit down and start eating.

"Watching you two makes me think that you hadn't had a bite to eat for days," she noted dryly as she took the seat across from both of them. She noticed that Ron was about to open his mouth, despite it being full, so she admonished him, "Swallow first before speaking."

His eyes flashed with exasperation, but he did as she said. "You need to get some new lines," Ron said once he was finished. "You say that every time."

"That's because I'm always surprised at how ravenous you are," she responded. She nabbed the rice away from the bottomless pit she called friend. She had learned that she had to act quickly to get what food she wanted otherwise the boys might inadvertently eat all her favorite dishes. They were always sorry afterwards, but that didn't make her any less hungry—or less miffed at them for being such thoughtless pigs when they were hungry. The growing boy excuse that they loved to ply simply didn't hold water any more.

"And here I thought you'd know me better by now." He scrunched up his face in an attempt to look hurt, but Hermione knew better than to fall for that old ploy. She ignored him in favor of food and only responded once she had filled her plate.

"Yes, I really should. I must remember that you and your appetite are worse than I think they are." It was juvenile, but she stuck her tongue out at him.

"And I have to remember that the two of you can't go an hour without one of you taking a verbal swipe at the other," Harry put in.

"Hey! That's not true!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah! For one thing, both of us can give as good as we get. And what's more we're not likely to wait a minute to start at it, much less an hour," Ron added.

Hermione groaned then covered her face with her hands. "And that is why I don't want you on my side when it comes to any sort of verbal altercation."

"Good for you that he's usually not then."

Hermione lifted her head up and glared at her best friend. "And you're just as bad, Harry Potter."

"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good idea, mate." Ron lifted his glass up and took a drink.

"You two are impossible."

"But you wouldn't have us any other way." Harry looked at her expectantly. Hermione managed to maintain a stern expression for all of a minute before giving in to a bout of giggles. "Knew I could charm you into agreeing with me," Harry said smugly.

"It's not your charm. I'm just laughing because it's better than crying."

Her friends exchanged a look. "Like that one's believable," Ron scoffed.

"Well Hermione has never been very good at lying."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"Seeing how the both of you are all too willing to bend the truth, one of us here has to be honest," Hermione told them, a bit aggrieved. She knew that saying she was bad at lying was being generous, but she didn't appreciate how her friends had made a habit of pointing that fact out. She snorted in annoyance then returned her attention to her plate, shoveling in a mouthful of food and chewing viciously, not really wanting this particular tangent to continue.

Harry and Ron got the hint. They had been friends long enough to recognize the signs of Hermione being on the verge of losing her temper, and so Harry prudently changed the subject—although not to one Hermione would have chosen.

"So how did your date with Neville go last week?"

Hermione's head shot up as she gave her friend a dirty look. She did not want to talk about Ginny's last attempt to set her up.

Unfortunately Ron's curiosity had been aroused. "What? You went out with Neville?" he asked.

"Yes," was her short reply.

"Why? I can't imagine the two of you—" He shut his mouth as he became the focus of Hermione's infamous death glare.

"Long story short, your sister is to blame for that." She sighed. She supposed she had to tell them something for she didn't want them to worry about what she might have said to Neville that evening. "Honestly! Neville isn't my type, and thankfully he doesn't think I'm his. Once we hashed that out, it was a pleasant enough evening. I only hope that Ginny's given up by now."

"I wouldn't count on that," said Harry.

"Okay. Back up a bit," said Ron. He looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, his face full of confusion. "Clearly I'm missing something here. Why would you ever let Gin set you up with someone? Bad idea doesn't begin to describe it."

Hermione's shoulders slumped forward, and she cast her eyes downward, away from her friends' faces. "Is that really important?" she asked.

"Okay, you know that your trying to avoid the question just makes me more curious."

She sighed. She supposed it was better to get it over with and just tell him. "She offered one day to play matchmaker for me, and let's just say I took leave of my senses long enough to agree to it."

"No! You didn't!" Ron gasped.

She nodded her head. "I did. I know. That was stupid, wasn't it?"

"But she's so bad at it. She couldn't match a veela to his mate!" Ron proclaimed loudly.

"Isn't that the truth," Hermione said softly, thinking of her own situation. It would never occur to Ginny to pair her with Malfoy—although she supposed she couldn't hold that against her friend.

"What were you thinking?" Ron asked. He gave her a searching look. "Really, Hermione, what were you thinking?"

"I think the problem was that I wasn't," Hermione muttered.

Ron continued on as though he hadn't heard her. "Didn't you remember the time she tried to set me up with a friend of hers? I wanted to say no, but the sneaky bint asked in front of Mum who thought it was a capital idea. Bleh. I never had a more miserable evening in my life."

"I know, I know. But I forgot all about that episode when she made her offer. I knew it would be easier to agree than to argue with her, and I thought how bad could it be." Hermione then remembered what Neville had said about the reasons behind Ginny's schemes. She smiled wickedly then looked over at Harry. "I'm holding you responsible for this fiasco, I'll have you know."

He raised an eyebrow at her accusation. "Oh really? As I remember it, I wasn't there when you agreed to Ginny's harebrained scheme. In fact, I think I tried to talk you out of it once I learned about it but—" His eyes drifted over to their other best friend, and he wisely decided not to go into details about the discussion they had while shopping back then. "But you were feeling stubborn that day," he concluded.

"That wasn't what I was referring to," she told him. Hermione leaned back in her chair. She wanted to draw out this conversation even more before shocking them. That would be more fun, and on the practical side, it would be prudent to wait until after Ron was finished drinking before springing Neville's theory on them. She really didn't want to have to experience him snorting butterbeer at her again.

"No? Then what? You weren't there to see it, but I was trying to keep Oliver in line that evening, if only because I didn't fancy having to break you out of Azkaban for choking the bloke."

"Wait—Ginny thought you and Oliver would be a good idea?" Ron hooted in laughter. "Oh boy. She's worse at this than I thought."

Hermione shot him a glare. Pursing her lips together, she decided it was best to take this opening before Ron put something else in his mouth. "Yes she did. But to answer Harry's question, since he seems determined to be thick tonight, I blame him because obviously Ginny is only harassing all her single friends this way because she's broody."

She grinned smugly as she got the reactions she had been hoping for. Ron immediately started hacking, absolutely gob smacked by her claim, while Harry's face had turned completely red. She crossed her arms, pleased at herself. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" She tapped her foot against the floor.

Harry opened and shut his mouth several times. He was at a lost for words, and there was a slight tinge of panic in his eyes. Finally he sputtered out, "Ginny's not broody!"

Hermione's grin only grew wider. This was fun. She was really enjoying herself. All too often she was the one being teased mercilessly. Turning the tables on them like this was something she had to do more often. She pounced on Harry's words. "Is that so? How do you know? Did you ask her?"

She hadn't thought it possible but Harry turned even more crimson. A whimper sounded from Ron's corner. When Hermione spared a glance for him, she saw him clasping his hands over his ears, trying desperately not to listen to the conversation.

"I don't need to ask her!" Harry stammered in reply. "We're not ready." He nodded his head emphatically.

Cool as a cat, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe you're not ready, but she is," she suggested.

"Well if I'm not ready for such a big step, then clearly we as a couple aren't ready," was Harry's quick reply.

Hermione frowned. She had only meant to tease Harry, but there seemed to be something more there. She held back a sigh. As a good friend, she couldn't just ignore Harry's rather vehement reaction to the idea of having children, especially not when she knew how much he had always longed for a family of his own. Hermione quickly looked over at Ron, who was now thumping his head against the table, and decided it was best to dismiss him for the rest of the conversation. "Ron, why don't you go out and set up the chess set?" she suggested.

Ron shot to his feet. "Good idea. Best idea you've had all night, in fact." He scurried out of the kitchen, his food forgotten for once. With him taken care of, Hermione was free to deal with Harry's issues.

"So you haven't asked her," Hermione noted as she focused her attention on Harry. He refused to meet her eyes. She sighed. "You know I thought you liked the idea of having a family of your own."

"I do," he said. "Well that is I like the idea and I like to think I already have my own family. You and Ron and Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys…you're my family."

"I meant," she said, "starting a family of your own. Which usually entails having children, something which I know you know."

"And we will. One day. When we're ready." His head bobbed up and down frantically.

Hermione chewed her lower lip as she considered what to say next. Both kindness and honesty was needed here. "I wasn't entirely joking when I said Ginny was broody, you know. I do think she's longing to start a family. I mean look at her family. When her mum was her age, she already had one son with another on the day."

"But Ginny's _not_ her mother. She's not desperate to start popping them out. She's willing to wait. She _wants _to wait," Harry insisted.

"How can you know that if you can't broach the subject with her?" Hermione pointed out. "I think the real issue here is that you're terrified of becoming a father for some reason."

Harry looked at her aghast. For a moment, she thought he was going to deny her accusation but to her surprise, he said, "You know what? You're right. I am terrified of becoming a father. Hermione, I'm still trying to figure out how to be a good husband! I'm not ready to become a father, especially not when…." He didn't finish his sentence, but Hermione knew what he was going to say.

"Especially not when you never had a father to learn from, right?" She could understand now why he was afraid. It made sense. What Harry was scared of was the unknown. "Have you ever thought of asking another wizard? Like maybe Arthur?"

Harry met her eyes then to give her a dirty look. "Yeah right. Ask my wife's father about when I should approach her about starting a family." He shuddered violently. "I think he'd say never, and frankly that doesn't sound all that bad of an answer to me."

Hermione pulled a face. Her friend had a point. "All right. Maybe asking Arthur wasn't the best idea—"

"You think," Harry remarked sarcastically.

She ignored the interruption. "—But I think no one is ever really prepared for parenthood. How can you be? It's such a huge responsibility and all. The thing is you're used to that. Think of all those years you shouldered the burden of saving the Wizarding World. If anyone's ready for fatherhood, it's—"

"Not me," Harry said adamantly. "I wouldn't know where to being. What if I'm an awful father? What if my children hate me? What if Ginny starts to hate me, what if I let her down?"

"And what if you love it? What if it's the best thing that ever happened to you? You would rather not find out?" Her friend looked like a deer in the headlights and had no response to her questions. Hermione thought back to her suggestion that Harry talk to another wizard about his fears. It wasn't a bad idea although she had to find someone Harry would be comfortable speaking with. It was unfortunate that all of the other father figures Harry had while growing up had died in the war. She wished Remus or even Sirius were here to have this conversation with her friend.

A long, shuddering gasp of breath escaped Harry's mouth, and Hermione's gaze flickered back over to him. "Do you think," he said, his eyes large and round, "that I'm letting her down? By being such a coward about this, that is."

"Oh Harry." Impulsively Hermione got up to give him a hug. "You're not a coward. You never have been, and I can't imagine you ever will be. You're just scared, and there's nothing to be ashamed about that." She felt awful now. She had only intended to tease her friend, to embarrass him a little bit, but it was way past that point now.

Then an idea occurred to her how she could help for now. She bit her lip, not certain about what Harry would think about the offer, before gathering her courage. "Well if you like," she said slowly, "I can talk to Ginny. About you know...whether she hankering to have a baby. If you're right and she doesn't, then you don't have to worry about it."

"And what if you're right, and she does?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Hermione said sagely. "We'll think of something. We always do. Now why don't you go see if Ron has the chess set ready or not yet while I clean up here? There's nothing like a friendly game of chess to take your mind off things."

"I'd prefer a game of Quidditch actually."

"Of course you would. You would stand a chance at winning if you were playing Quidditch."

Harry pushed his glasses back on his nose and leveled a stare are Hermione. "So you think I'm going to lose, do you?"

"Harry," said Hermione in a gentle tone, "I know you're going to lose. You always do."

"Care to put a wager on that?"

She shook her head. "That'd be too cruel, to take your money as well as your pride. Now go on already. I'll join after I'm done here." She made a shooing motion with her hands, and Harry took the hint. Once he had left, Hermione stood up and got to work. With a wave of her wand, she sent the dishes flying towards the sink. Then she packed up the remaining food and stored it in the fridge before going over to the sink to wash the dishes.

She finished those chores then she set her tea kettle on the stove. A spot of tea would be good for everyone's nerves. While she was waiting for it to boil, she searched her cupboard for the package of shortbread she bought the other day. A few minutes later she was entering the living room, with a tray of tea and biscuits following behind her in the air.

Hermione took a look at the chessboard and saw that already half of Harry's pieces were missing. "Wow," she said. "You certainly didn't waste any time losing to Ron."

He shot her an annoyed look. "I haven't lost yet. And I'll have you know that this is all part of my plan. I'm luring him into complacency." With that, Harry moved his remaining knight forward.

"Oh you really shouldn't have done that," said Ron. He casually took Harry's knight with his bishop. "And check by the way," he added.

"Really?" Harry scowled at the board. "I don't seem to have any good options here," he said under his breath.

"No you don't," said Ron.

"I wasn't asking you," said Harry. He sighed then toppled his king over. "Might as well start over again," he said. "Maybe I'll have better luck."

Hermione bit back a snort of derision. While she would have liked to see Harry win—mainly because she thought it would be good for Ron—she knew that it wasn't going to happen. She handed a mug of tea to Harry and set one down beside Ron, who was busy rearranging all the pieces. She put the plate of biscuits off to the side of the board before snagging her own mug and heading over to her usual seat.

"So has Ron told you about his engagement party?" Harry asked.

"Engagement party?" Hermione frowned. "I didn't know you were having one."

"Bah. You just had to go and bring that up, didn't you?" Ron grimaced fiercely.

"That doesn't sound good," Hermione said.

"That's because it isn't." Ron sighed. "In case you didn't know, Mum doesn't like Mrs Patil and vice versa. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that the two of them hate each other. So when Padma's mum began making noises about they're not being a formal engagement party and all…well Mum wasn't about to take that lying down."

"So I take it you're going to have a party then?"

"They already did," Harry said.

"What?" Hermione snapped her head over to look at Ron. "And I wasn't invited?" she asked shrilly. It hurt to think that she had been left out like that.

Ron glared at Harry. "Not exactly. Harry's not telling you everything. Mum decided to invite the Patils over to the Burrow last Sunday for brunch and then right before we all were going to sit down and eat, let it be known that this was our engagement party. Padma's mum blew her top and started ranting about how affronted she was and…yeah it wasn't pretty."

"But to get to the point, Mrs Patil claimed she'd host the party since it was obvious Mum wasn't up to the task. And of course Mum took that as an insult and said she'd host it and well…it turned out that we're having two parties. One at the Patils'and one at the Burrow. Don't worry, you're invited to both."

"Does that I mean I have to bring gifts to both?" Hermione asked, hoping that the joke would improve Ron's mood.

"Only if it's firewhisky," he told her. "Because trust me, I'm going to need it."

Hermione snorted. Obviously Ron hadn't really thought that through. While getting drunk at his engagement parties might seem like an appealing option, he would live to regret it. However Hermione wasn't about to point that out for she knew that he would ignore her advice like he always did. "Well," she said, "I certainly hope the two of you won't shop up drunk next week for the gala at Malfoy Manor."

Her two boys exchanged a look, and Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Don't tell me you were planning on not going."

"I wish," muttered Harry.

Hermione stomped her foot. "What was that?" she asked sharply.

Ron coughed. "I can't speak for Harry but Padma and I are going," he said quickly. "To be clear, it's not that I particularly want to go—I always find these things deathly dull—but I know how important this is to you."

Hermione beamed at him. "Good. I'm happy to hear that." She looked at Harry. "How about you?"

"Do I have a choice?" he asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Yes, I'm going. Even if you would give me a pass, Ginny would drag me there." He sighed deeply. "And of course she expects to dance."

"Ah. I see." That explained Harry's reluctance. "Well at least there shouldn't be any dancing at either of Ron's parties."

"I hope not. The wedding is going to be bad enough," said Harry.

"Hey! You make it sound like attending my wedding is some sort of chore!" Ron protested.

"Considering how I might have to potentially break up fights between your mother and Padma's…." Harry ducked as Ron threw a chess piece on him, and soon the game was forgotten as the friends took turn teasing each other.

* * *

**Author's note: **Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.


	9. Chapter 8

**Fated: Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Ron's engagement parties were good for one thing. It gave Hermione an excuse for her to owl Ginny the next day. She still felt awful for teasing Harry the way she did, and so she was eager to make amends. She sent her friend a short note, asking that the other witch help her search for a gift to give Ron and Padma. While Ron might have been serious about wanting firewhisky, Hermione wasn't about to give that to him.

Ron had enough trouble keeping his foot out of his mouth when he was sober. She didn't want to think about what sort of disaster it would be if he was drunk at either one of his parties.

Hermione sent off the note to Ginny after breakfast. It would be some time before she would get a response so she decided to clean while waiting. Hermione knew very well that she could use magic for her household chores—certainly Ron was always all too willing to remind her of that fact. However she rather like doing it by hand, especially when she wanted to keep her mind occupied. She had a bad tendency to worry about everything that could possibly go wrong, and doing housework the Muggle way helped to keep those worries at bay.

She dusted with vigor, determined to have her flat spotless if only for a day. Then she mopped the kitchen floor and vacuumed everywhere else. Vacuuming turned out to be more fun with Shadow around. When Hermione first turned the vacuum on, it startled the young cat, who had never seen the Muggle appliance before. Soon Shadow was stalking the vacuum from room to room. Hermione had to laugh at the serious expression on the kitten's face; it was clear that Shadow didn't trust the noisy thing and was keeping an eye on it to ensure that it didn't turn upon her owner. Hermione was so amused by her kitten's antics that she vacuumed the entire flat not once but twice.

Although Hermione had taken her time with cleaning everything, it was only mid-morning when she finished and there was still no reply from her friend. She racked her brain, thinking of how to pass the time, before giving up and deciding to settle in with a good book. She trotted over to her spare bedroom, which had become a library of sorts for her because of all the books she stored there. Hermione couldn't decide which one she wanted to read, her hand hovering over book after book. She sighed in exasperation and closed her eyes. She reached a hand out towards the book case to pick a book blindly. It was a tactic she liked to use whenever she was being indecisive about what to read.

Unfortunately her hand had landed on a tome written by Gilderoy Lockhart. She gazed at it in shock. "I thought I had donated all of these to the library," she said to herself. While the books were rubbish, it still went against everything she stood for just to toss them out. Madam Pince certainly hadn't refused the donation, although she had given Hermione a strange look.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She might as well read the book before tossing it into her donation pile. It ought to be good for a few laughs. She trotted back to her living room and settled down with the book. A few pages in, however, she found it to be practically unreadable. She couldn't read a paragraph without finding some discrepancy in Lockhart's words. She finally gave up on it and tossed it across the room when she came across a passage about dryads. Naturally Lockhart had got everything wrong about them, and she was in no mood to read such nonsense any further.

"And to think I once…argh!" Hermione shook her head. She hated remembering how silly she had been about that wizard. She stood up, determined to find something worth reading that would take her mind off of those embarrassing memories. This time rather than randomly picking out a book, she reached for her old standby, the latest edition of _Hogwarts, A History._ Ensconced once again in her favorite chair, she was soon lost amongst its paragraphs about her old school.

The familiar crack of Apparition interrupted her reading. "And here I thought you had that memorized by now," said Ginny.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. She jumped to her feet to greet her friend. "Did I miss your owl?" she asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No, no. I just got yours and decided to come over. I didn't really have any plans for today, and like you, I need to get something for Ron and Padma."

"That's not firewhisky, I assume."

"Too right that. My brothers have the alcoholic gifts more than covered," said Ginny. "I tried telling them it's a bad idea, but of course they didn't listen. That's also the reason why I'd rather not go looking with Harry—he would suggest we get more of the same."

"What can I say?" Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "It's the typical male response if your husband and your brothers are anything to go by."

"Hmm…that almost sounds like an indictment of my taste in men."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny was still feeling sensitive, she could see. "Except for the fact that you didn't choose your brothers," she pointed out. "It's not your fault that Harry's been corrupted by him."

"That's true." Ginny flashed her a smile. "So any ideas about what to get them?"

Hermione shook her head. "I was hoping you would have some."

"I haven't a clue. We will just have to do this the hard way and browse. I'm positive we'll come across something to get them," the redhead said.

"I think the hard part is you not buying anything for yourself."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Well so long as we stay away from clothing shops, I should be good. Harry wasn't happy last time though he didn't say anything. I think it was partly because he knew I was out with you, helping you find some new robes, and partly because I hadn't bought any new robes for a while before that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't really have any interest in getting between her friends that way. She checked a sigh; promising Harry that she would try to find out if Ginny was really hankering for a child was more than she ever wanted to do in the first place. However, after seeing his reaction to her gentle teasing, she couldn't very well not help him out.

"So where shall we start? Flourish and Blotts?"

"Really?" Ginny shot her a skeptical look.

"I can think of some books that Padma would appreciate," Hermione replied defensively.

"Yes, but do you really think that's appropriate? I mean, if you give those to her in front of my brother, he's likely to turn as red as a tomato."

"Ginny!" Hermione swatted her friend's arm. "Honestly. I didn't mean anything like that. Is your mind always in the gutter?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "It comes from having as many brothers as I do. But since we don't know where to go first—it's not that I'm opposed to visiting Flourish and Blotts, just that it should be our last stop knowing your tendency to browse for ages—but anyway how about getting something to eat first? Frankly I'm starving. I've not eaten anything yet today."

Hermione nodded her head. That sounded as good a plan as any. "That's fine," she said. She placed her book on the table then went to grab her bag. The two friends Apparated over to Diagon Alley. This time around Hermione took the lead as she walked over to a favorite small café of hers that was conveniently located near Flourish and Blotts. She was recognized by the waiter there who led them to her usual table.

"Someone still has aspirations of shopping for books first I see," Ginny noted as she took her seat across from Hermione.

"It's not that," said Hermione. "I picked this place not because of its location but because it'll afford us a spot of privacy as opposed to our usual haunts."

Ginny gave her an arch look. "So we need privacy? Pray tell, what for? Are you thinking of making a confession?"

Hermione was lost. She had no clue what Gin was talking about. "Excuse me?" she said. "I was just referring to the fact that I'd prefer not to run into Ron while talking about what to get him. You know how he gets when he knows you're keeping a secret from him."

Ginny visibly deflated. "Oh. That's why." She sighed. "And here I thought it was more than that."

"What else could it be?"

"Well it could be a couple of things. For one, rumor has it that you were seen dining out at a posh locale with a newly eligible wizard," Ginny said slyly.

Hermione's confusion only grew. "Yes, but you knew that already. You were the one who set me up with Neville after all. Which I have to report didn't really go the way you were hoping. We're best off as friends, I think."

"I wasn't talking about that." Ginny stamped her foot. "Don't play innocent with me. It might not have made the gossip columns yet, but everyone knows how you and Draco Malfoy were seen the other day looking all lovey-dovey."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What?" she exclaimed. "Where did you hear that?"

"A girl hears things in my line of work." Ginny buffed her nails and blew on them before looking up to smile at her friend.

"Of course." Hermione wrinkled her nose. That wasn't good. Ginny worked as a reporter at _Witch Weekly._ If her afternoon with Malfoy was making the rounds over there, it was only a matter of time before something was published about them.

"You know I'm kind of surprised that I'm not hearing any denials here. Does that mean I was wrong to squash that story?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you weren't. In fact, I very much appreciate it. I did have lunch with Malfoy the other day, but it was strictly business."

"Strictly business, you say? My source said that you were clinging to him as though you couldn't bear the thought of being apart."

"I was not clinging to him!" Hermione protested hotly. "I was just feeling a bit faint you see—"

"From being so close to such a delectable wizard?" Ginny suggested.

Hermione sent her a withering glare. "Ginny!" she hissed. "You're married!"

The redhead simply shrugged that comment off. "Yes I am, and very happily I might add. That doesn't mean I can't appreciate how jaw-droppingly handsome Draco Malfoy is—well so long as he keeps his mouth shut." She smirked at the other witch. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you've not said anything to the contrary."

Hermione bit her tongue. There were times when she wished that her friend wasn't so observant. "As I was saying," she said through gritted teeth, "I was _not_ clinging to him. I was simply disorientated because that git insisted on using side along Apparition even though I told him not to."

Ginny looked crestfallen at those words. "Oh," she said. "Well that's boring. Here I was hoping you were going to tell me about the torrid affair you were having with him." She sighed. "That would've explained why you weren't enamored with any of the wizards I've sent your way."

"Yes, well, so sorry to disappoint you," said Hermione. She was determined to make her friend believe that she would never be interested in Malfoy. The truth was something she didn't want to share. So she continued her rant. "Honestly! I don't know why you credited whatever silly bint told you I was draped over Malfoy. You know perfectly well that I think he's the most egotistical, selfish, self-absorbed git to—" It suddenly struck Hermione that Ginny had become very silent, her gaze focused on something just over Hermione's shoulder. _Oh no_, she thought. She knew before she turned around just who she would see standing behind her.

What she didn't expect, however, was the brief flash of pain that flickered in Draco's eyes before they hardened into steel nor the sudden wave of sadness that she felt emanate from him.

An apology immediately sprung to Hermione's lips. "Malfoy…I…." she stuttered, half rising in her seat. I didn't mean it, she wanted to say. I don't really feel that way…I was only trying to get Ginny off my back, she wanted to tell him. However the words stuck in her parched throat, and try though she might, she just couldn't get them out.

Cold disdain settled over his features like a mask as he watched her fumble for words. Hermione gulped anxiously as she shut her mouth, fearful of what he would say next. However he simply strode away without saying a word.

Somehow that only made her feel worse.

"Blast it," she said. She slumped down in her chair and covered her face with her hands. Though he had fled, the anguish she had caused him still reverberated in the air. She hated herself for being so unintentionally cruel. It wasn't any wonder why her mate didn't care for her; how could anyone care for someone as thoughtless as her.

"Hermione?" called out Ginny. "Are you all right?"

The brunette drew in a deep, shuddering breath. She might as well continue with the farce, she decided, seeing how the damage had been done. "Yes," she said, lifting her head up to meet her friend's worried gaze. "I'm just feeling…exceedingly embarrassed at the moment." She sighed. "Not that that's any less than what I deserve."

Ginny gave her a long look, and Hermione knew then that she hadn't fooled her friend. However the younger witch didn't challenge Hermione's word and instead simply started chatting about what they could get her brother and his fiancée as a present. Hermione answered absently, her mind still preoccupied with what had happened, and indeed she remained distracted for the rest of the afternoon as they went from shop to shop searching for suitable presents.

Towards the end of the day, however, Hermione had an epiphany. That flash of pain she felt from Malfoy—maybe it meant that he didn't hate her as much as she thought. Maybe she did have a chance with him. For if he had truly despised her, he wouldn't have been affected by her words; instead he would have been far more likely to strike back at her with insults of his own. She cheered up at that thought. She had stuck her foot in it of course, but she would apologize to him the next time she saw him and with any luck, they could start over again—and it was a long shot but maybe that would lead to something more.

Hermione sighed happily at that thought. Her mood improved, she was able to focus her attention at the task at hand. The two witches quickly discarded the idea of getting any household items for the couple. Ron and Padma had been living together for awhile and so there wasn't anything they really needed for their home. There were other considerations as well. "That's likely to start a fight," noted Ginny. "I mean if we get something for the kitchen, Mum will take a shot at Padma's cooking skills…again."

"Really? And I thought your mum liked Padma," Hermione said.

Ginny simply sighed and shook her head. "She did at first since she was happy that Ron had found someone who wasn't you. But after the novelty wore off…well let's just say that Padma has no plans to be the sort of wife Mum thinks my brothers deserve—"

"You mean she's not going to stay at home and have dinner on the table for Ron when he gets home."

"Exactly." Ginny nodded her head fervently. "Sometimes Mum still lectures me on that, but thankfully I have Dad to run interference for me. Don't know what I'd do without him."

In the end, Ginny gave up and ducked into a potions shop. "I'll put together a his and hers potions set," she said as they browsed the wares.

"Oh? I didn't realize they had those," said Hermione.

"They don't. I just made it up. There'll be a hangover potion for Ron, seeing how he'll need it after all the firewhisky the rest of my brothers give him. And as for Padma, a headache potion, as she's certain to have them from having to deal with my brother." She grinned widely, pleased at her cleverness.

"That doesn't help me much," said Hermione.

"You could do the same. More hangover potion will never be wasted on Ron, and with all the wedding planning going on, Padma will probably need a headache cure on a daily basis."

"Hmm…tempting but no. I'd like to come up with my own gift," said Hermione. "But that gives me an idea." She had been hearing from everyone how stressful the wedding planning was because of the constantly bickering mothers. After they exited the potions shop, Hermione took the lead and went to the spa that the two of them had visited a couple weekends back. Once there she bought a gift certificate for a day at the spa for Ron and Padma.

"If things are half as bad as you and Harry say," Hermione explained to Ginny as she was paying at the register, "then they'll probably need a day to get away from it all and relax before very long."

"What they need to do is elope," Ginny replied.

"Oh? Is someone setting up a betting pool for that?"

"Of course not! Mum would kill us if we did that," was Ginny's ready answer but her shifty eyes belied her.

"I should talk to George then if I want to get a bet in, right?"

"Well he would be the logical choice…if we did something like that, which I'm telling you we're not."

"Of course not." Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't even know why her friend was bothering to plead her innocence. Ginny was doing such a bad job at it. Hermione could understand that Ginny might not want to admit to a betting pool being in existence in public but anyone with eyes could tell that the redhead was lying. Hermione decided to let it slide. If Ginny wanted to believe that she was tops at being sneaky then so be it.

As they were walking out of the shop, Hermione realized that she had yet to quiz Ginny about her thoughts about having children. She frowned. She had been so distracted by Malfoy that she had completely forgotten her promise to Harry. She sighed. Putting it off sounded nice, but she knew that procrastination would only make the task harder in the end for that would give her time to worry and fret over it. So she invited her friend over for dinner.

"Is there anything edible at your place?" Ginny looked at her askance.

Hermione huffed indignantly. "You could just say no if you have other plans," she said.

"But I wasn't. Going to say no that is. It's boys nice out tonight, and well…I already ate alone last night. I'd rather not have to do that again. I'm just so used to eating with my family that it feels off when I'm at the dinner table alone." She shuddered. "The only reason why I mentioned your pantry's usual bare state was because I was going to suggest we get some take away. Besides I'm willing to bet that you haven't shopped for food since the last time I dragged you out."

"Actually I have," Hermione stated. She knew her friend had good reason for making such a statement, but still it rankled.

"That's right." Ginny snapped her fingers. "You have Shadow to think about now too. Of course you'll be buying food more regularly now."

Hermione bit her tongue. Sometimes Ginny didn't know when to stop. She was itching to say something pointed in her defense, but getting into a heated debate wouldn't be conducive to her finding out the redhead's thoughts on children. So Hermione reined in her temper and moved on. "Putting that aside, buying something to eat is fine with me. Saves me the trouble of having to wash all the dishes."

"I will never understand how both you and Harry like to do chores the Muggle way," Ginny said. She shrugged her shoulders. "Not that I really care for it's not as though either of you try to make me do the dishes by hand. So where do you want to eat?"

"And here I thought you'd have some place in mind seeing how it was your suggestion and all."

"I don't have anywhere in particular in mind. Just not anything healthy, thank you very much. I feel eating something I'll regret later."

Hermione shot her friend a look. It was on the tip of her tongue to inquire whether Ginny was feeling all right, but she held back. She could save that discussion for later when they were alone. The two of them grabbed some take-away from a favorite restaurant of theirs and then returned to her flat. Hermione fetched a couple of plates and set the table while Ginny nabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with water for them to drink. Soon enough they were sitting down at the table and eating.

As they ate, Hermione pondered what was the best way to address the issue of children with her friend. Being subtle would probably only backfire, she decided. Knowing Ginny, she would take that as an indication that Hermione was hankering for a baby which would then spur the redhead to redouble her efforts to find a wizard for her friend. Hermione shuddered. She definitely didn't want that to happen. This past week, when she didn't have a date with a different wizard every other night, had been nice. Besides she had already decided that she wanted to try and at least become friends with her mate. That was a gargantuan task, seeing how far apart she was from Draco, and so she had no time to waste on dating any more.

"So," said Ginny, rousing Hermione from her thoughts, "that was an interesting day we had, now wasn't it?"

"Interesting? I suppose so," said Hermione. Something about Ginny's tone set her on edge. She wiped her fingers on a napkin then took a drink. "It was fun though. I'm glad we both managed to find something for Ron and Padma."

"Yes," said Ginny, "but that wasn't what I was referring to."

Hermione stiffened. Sometimes her friend was too nosy for her own good—and all of Hermione's instincts were screaming out that this was one of those times.

"I mean when Malfoy overheard what you said…you looked like you…you regretted ever saying that about him." Ginny gave her a searching look.

Hermione tossed her head and laughed nervously. "You know me, Gin. I'm not the sort to want someone to overhear something like that."

"Generally no. Not unless you really despised someone—the way you _don't _despise Malfoy apparently."

"I was embarrassed." Hermione flushed as her heart started beating faster. Ginny could be very perceptive at times, and that only meant trouble.

"That's the thing. I expected you to be embarrassed. But you were more than that. You were almost panicking over the whole thing, and I could've sworn you were on the verge of telling him you didn't mean any of it. And what's more—you really didn't mean any of it. You don't hate him half as much as you pretend to, do you?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. She absolutely did not want Ginny discovering her secret. For if Ginny knew, then soon Harry would know and then Ron would know and before long, her secret would be common knowledge amongst her circle of friends. And she didn't want that. Knowing them, they would try to help her out and it would backfire spectacularly—and when that happened as it inevitably would, then they would start to pity her. She definitely didn't want her friends' pity or help, especially not when she had just started to plot how to approach Malfoy on her own. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Hermione," said Ginny softly, reaching out a hand to her friend, "are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, rather more sharply than she had intended. She pressed on, ignoring the shocked look on her friend's face. Her panic gave her the strength the broach the subject she had been dancing around all day. "You're seeing something that isn't there, Gin. Honestly! You can be such a busybody. You need something else to keep you busy—like a baby."

Ginny hissed and sat back in her seat, pain etched all over her features. Now it was Hermione's turn to worry.

"Ginny," she said, in much the same tone her friend had used not long before, "is everything all right?"

"No, everything's not all right." Ginny raised a hand to brush away her tears. "I've not been all right for a long while, and I've been dreading this day when someone finally figured it out."

Hermione's heart ached for her friend. "Ginny, what is it?" she asked. She leaned forward. "It can't be that bad. Whatever it is, I'm certain we'll find a way to—"

"I _can't_ have children!" gasped the redhead. She began to shake in her seat as she started to cry in earnest. Hermione immediately went to comfort her friend. She hugged the young witch, mumbling soothing phrases all the while.

Finally Ginny seemed to calm down. Hermione softly asked, "So how…when did you find out—"

"That I'm barren?" Ginny's lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. "Not that long. The last couple of months. I've been trying to have a baby for over a year now," she said.

Hermione blinked. That conflicted with everything she knew. "But Harry—"

"I knew if I waited for Harry to be ready, then he never would be. So without telling him, I stopped taking my potion. Once I was pregnant, I would tell him and well…things would work out somehow. But it's been fifteen months—fifteen months, Hermione!—and I'm still not pregnant." Ginny sighed and looked down at her hands. "It's such a cruel joke. I never thought that I would be—well look at my mother for Merlin's sake. She had seven children. I thought I'd have one or two of my own for certain."

"But what did the healer say?" Hermione pressed her friend. "And did you get a second opinion?"

Ginny's head snapped up. She glared at her friend fiercely. "I don't need a healer"—she all but spat the word—"to officially tell me that I'm barren. I can put two and two together myself!"

Hermione closed her eyes. _Patience_, she reminded herself. _Have patience with the poor girl because she's clearly distraught, and don't tell her how ridiculous that is._ She counted to ten silently then opened her eyes. "There is a difference," she said, "between having trouble conceiving and not being able to have any children at all. Only a healer can tell you which it is—and if it's the first, what steps to take so that you can get pregnant."

Ginny's sharp intake of breath and the brief flash of hope that shone in her eyes told Hermione all that she needed to know. The younger witch had leapt to conclusions rather than considering all possibilities. Hermione had her work cut out for her. The first thing to do was to make Ginny an appointment with a fertility specialist and see what if anything was wrong with her. Hermione suspected that mere chance was to blame for Ginny not getting pregnant, but a specialist could confirm that and hopefully allay the younger witch's fears.

After that Hermione would lean on Ginny to talk to Harry about the whole thing. If Ginny did have some sort of medical condition, then she would need the support of her husband. If she didn't, then it would still be better to try to work through Harry's issues rather than just presenting him with a _fait accompli._ Hermione sighed. She would have preferred not to have got this involved in her friends' marriage, but she couldn't very well just leave things as they were. They needed her help, and she wasn't about to let them down.

****

**Author's note: **And so ends another chapter. Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I wound up splitting this chapter in half since it was getting too long, which is really too bad. Oh well. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. My thanks to all my reviewers.


	10. Chapter 9

**Fated: Chapter Nine**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

When Narcissa had issued her invitation last week, Hermione hadn't realized that it was for dinner _and_ a show.

Her hostess greeted her at the usual spot and led Hermione to the formal dining room, where the wizards were waiting. Once everyone was sitting down, Narcissa cleared her throat. "And now I must apologize," she said to Hermione, "for I fear I shall monopolize the conversation the entire evening." Groans issued from either side of her from the Malfoy males. "It's high time that I inform these two of what they're forbidden to do for the next couple of days." The blonde witch then drew out several rolls of parchment.

Hermione blinked in surprise. This wasn't what exactly what she had been expecting. "I see," she said non-commitally. Before she could get anything else out, Narcissa launched into reading from her first scroll. Hermione soon found herself very much amused. Narcissa's list was detailed and organized. The older witch would announce the title of each section before going into it.

"Now for the penultimate section," Narcissa announced as dessert arrived, "which is all about Quidditch. As usual I have a whole scroll of parchment dedicated to it."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She silently wondered if it was a wise choice to time the Quidditch section with dessert. She rather thought that some people—meaning a certain blond who had barely said a word to her all evening much to her dismay—would be paying more attention to what was on the table rather than to what the older witch was saying. _Then again,_ Hermione thought, _given how long this has been going on...I have to wonder if either Malfoy or his father can remember everything. _She gave a mental shrug of her shoulders as she tucked in, listening with half an ear to the exhaustive list of things the Malfoys were banned from doing that were Quidditch related.

Narcissa was still reading long after dessert was finished. "No shopping for brooms, test flying brooms, cleaning your brooms, selling your old brooms, donating them to charity, getting them ready to sell them or to donate them to charity, or any other activity that involves you touching any broom," said Narcissa. She paused to take a breath then went on. "The same goes for quaffles, bludgers, and snitches. No attending any games, official or not, organizing any games, bragging about winning a game in the past, boasting about how you're going to win in the future, or antagonizing anyone in general about how bad they are at Quidditch or how their team is doomed to lose the next game or doomed to lose for all of eternity." The elegant witch shot a sharp look at her son, who simply sighed. "That covers everything I have pertaining to Quidditch."

"No one knows how to take the fun out of life quite like you do, Cissa dear," Lucius muttered.

"Hush dear. I'm not done yet. There are still all the miscellaneous items to cover," she told him. She took a deep breath before starting once again. "No arguing with Great-Aunt Agatha's portrait, no trying to remove said portrait to the attic, and no attempting to destroy said portrait in any fashion." She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. "Really, darlings, you never learn."

"And here I thought you would be grateful that we're still trying to get rid of that blasted thing even after that time it curst Father's hair off," Malfoy said petulantly.

Hermione snorted in spite of herself. That was a sight she would have liked to have seen. Just the thought of Lucius Malfoy without all his hair inspired laughter.

"Find something amusing, Miss Granger?" drawled Lucius with a fierce glower.

"Sorry," said Hermione, blushing slightly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it," Narcissa said. "Interruptions give me a chance to catch my breath. Now where was I? Oh yes, I was just starting on the portraits."

Hermione thought she heard a whimper coming from somewhere beside her as Narcissa launched into her list again with renewed vigor. Her gaze flickered to the side over to where Malfoy was sitting. Though his attention was firmly fixed on his mother, there was a pained expression on his face. Hermione really couldn't blame him. While there had been many amusing items on Narcissa's list, for the most part, dinner had been deathly dull. Moreover Hermione hadn't had a chance to talk to Malfoy at all, much less apologize for the other day. That rather set back her plans to approach her mate.

They had all moved to a nearby sitting room, with the witches drinking tea while the wizards resorted to firewhisky, when Narcissa finally finished. "And that's that," she concluded with a flourish. She glanced over at the clock and frowned. "Hmm…I hadn't realized that it was so late. No matter. Now I'll have a solemn promise from both of you not to do any of that while Hermione is still here to witness it."

Hermione tilted her head towards her hostess. She hadn't expected that. Her confusion must have shown on her face as Narcissa turned to her and said, "You see, my dear, I've learned from experience that unless I specifically mention everything these two are forbidden to do then they will find a way to weasel their way out of attending the events I plan." She rolled her eyes. "Though there are times when one of them stumbles upon something I've left off my list and well…the less said about that, the better."

"Then why have a list?" Hermione asked. "If I were you, I wouldn't bother with that. I would simply let them know that their attendance is required."

"Been there, done that, and was frustrated at how quickly they managed to disappear when they even showed up at all," Narcissa noted. She shot a disgruntled look towards her son. "Although I should give Lucius some credit. For the most part, he is there to greet our guests before he abandons me to hide in his study with his friends. Draco, however, tends towards avoiding all my events altogether."

"Well then tell them that their attendance is required for the entire evening then. And if they disappointed me, then I would hold them personally responsible for that. No excuses." Hermione smirked as immediately cries of protest arose from the wizards in the room.

"What?" exclaimed Draco.

"Are you mad, woman?" added his father. "I'll have you know that accidents do happen."

She held up a hand for silence. "You see," she explained, "giving them a list like that is practically challenging them to think of something new that you've not forbidden yet. You'll always run the risk of one or both of them thinking of some new antic to try."

"Why?" Draco interjected. "Because we're Slytherins?" he asked with a sneer.

Hermione looked over at him, holding in a sigh. "No, Malfoy, not because you're Slytherins but because you're men and that's how men are." She turned her attention back to the other witch. "Trust me on this one. I've had plenty of experience myself trying to keep Harry and Ron out of trouble. Their imagination when it comes to landing themselves in new predicaments is boundless. I can't keep up. No witch ever could. That's why I simply insisted on their attendance Saturday evening. If I gave them a list like the one you're giving your husband and son, it would more likely than not inspire them. They would be certain to find a loophole."

A large grin slowly stretched across Narcissa's face. "That idea is direct and straight-forward and positively Gryffindorish in its approach and yet…there's something brilliant in its simplicity, isn't there? I think I rather like it."

"Diabolic is more like it," muttered her husband. A sharp look from the blonde witch shut him up, and he was quiet for the rest of the evening. The two witches carried the brunt of the conversation, speaking about recent developments at Hermione's work with occasional input from Draco.

"So are there any particular tracts of land that you have concerns about?" he asked during a lull in the conversation.

Hermione blinked. "Pardon?" she asked.

"For the foundation to purchase," he explained. "After all the foundation's stated purpose is to support preservation efforts by buying up at risk parcels of land. Seeing how we're going to announce it in a couple of days, we might as well start considering what will be our first acquisition." He sighed then. "Actually I had meant to start the process earlier, but this last month has been incredibly busy for me."

"Indeed," said Hermione with an answering sigh. The last month had been busy for her as well. "Truth be told, I hadn't really thought about that. I'll ask Drew tomorrow if he has any ideas. I'm positive he does. He probably has a list in fact."

"I must confess that I'm surprised you don't," Malfoy said. "It's rather unlike you not to have a list for something so near and dear to your heart." Though his tone was mild, he gave her a sort of knowing look. She was rather taken aback by that. She wondered if Malfoy still thought of her as just that swot from school.

That was a depressing thought. She pushed it aside and instead focused on the next comment from Narcissa. Time flew by, and before she knew it, she was holding back yawns. It was past eleven, and she knew she had to get home soon because she had work the next day. However she didn't want to be rude. So Hermione waited, biding her time until an appropriate moment came.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait all that long. The conversation had ground to a halt, and so she took her chance. "Well it's been a lovely evening," she said, rising to her feet, "but I'm afraid that I had best get going."

Narcissa's eyes flickered over to the clock. "Oh my! I hadn't realized that it's so late," she exclaimed. She too got up from her seat. "I do hope you enjoyed yourself this evening. Here, let me show you the way out."

"No need to do that, my dear," Lucius spoke up for the first time in ages. "Draco will do that for you."

"What?" Draco squawked in protest.

"You heard me, boy." Lucius glared at his son. He continued on in a softer voice, so low that the witches almost couldn't hear him. "You wouldn't want your dear Miss Granger to put any other horrible ideas into your mother's head." That earned an eye roll from Draco, but he still stood and did as his father bid.

"Very well," he said. "Let's go." He waited impatiently as Hermione finished saying good bye to his parents. When she was finally ready to go, he set off at a brisk pace, leaving her to trail after him. Hermione did her best to keep up, not wanting to get lost. Even though she had been at the manor several times the past month, its labyrinth of hallways was still unknown to her. A couple times she asked Draco to slow down but to no avail. She winced in shame as she realized that he was walking so fast so that he could avoid having to talk to her.

"Malfoy," she called out as they exited the manor and entered the gardens. "Please slow down. I can hardly keep up." When he gave no indication of hearing her, she sighed in exasperation. "Fine. Never mind then. I'll find my own way out." She stopped in her tracks, completely out of breath. Clearly there was no way she could catch him if he didn't want to be caught—and that was true in more ways than one. However she found that when she stopped, he did too, albeit with a much aggrieved look on his face.

"Aren't you in a hurry to get home?" he asked her. "If I remember correctly, you do have work tomorrow."

"I do," she replied, "but that doesn't mean I have to run out." She took a deep breath. Then before she could lose her courage, she said quickly, "Malfoy about the other day—I'm sorry. What I said…I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, really I am."

His jaw clenched, and his eyes became as hard as steel. "I see," he said. "So I gather that I should believe that you were lying to your friend."

Hermione winced. Malfoy had a point—either she was lying to Ginny back then or she was lying now, and naturally he was suspicious of her being truthful to a wizard she had been at odds with since forever. "Not lying exactly," she said. She found that she couldn't quite meet his gaze. "Just taking liberties with the truth with a friend who was likely to become tiresome about it if she knew."

He gave a small laugh. "Funny. That's twice now this evening that you've proven you would have made a fine Slytherin." He reached forward and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. "Tell me the truth now, Hermione," he said gently. "Were you lying to your friend, or are you only apologizing now because you feel like you should?"

Hermione stared helplessly up at him. When he looked at her like that—well he could have asked her anything and she would have done it for him. "I was lying then. The truth is I've not found you selfish or self-absorbed for awhile now." She gulped nervously. "And I'm apologizing because it was mean-spirited and cruel and I didn't mean it and so—" She wrung her hands as she stammered on, desperate to make him believe her.

"Apology accepted," he said simply, ending her babbling. He dropped his hands to his side and continued onward, though at a slower pace. Hermione trailed after him forlornly, not knowing quite what to say. They walked in silence for several long minutes, and he didn't speak again until after they entered the woods.

"If I may ask, why didn't you simply tell your friend the truth?" he asked without turning around.

"The truth?" Hermione gulped nervously. Though she had plans to become friends with Draco and see if there was any possibility that he could ever be interested in her, she wasn't ready yet to reveal her secret to him. "Well," she extemporized, "if I told her that I enjoyed your company, she would have been insufferable. Knowing Ginny, she might have Apparated me over to St. Mungo's to have my head examined then and there."

"I meant," Malfoy said dryly, raising one eyebrow, "the truth about you not being interested in me that way at all."

Hermione blushed deep red. Nothing could have been further than the truth. She was grateful that he wasn't facing her, because if he had been, he certainly would have seen the truth about how she felt about him written all over her face. "I…well…I wouldn't say that, Malfoy. You're a very attractive wizard and any witch would be lucky to have you—"

"But I'm just not the one for you right." He stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face her. "Have no fear, Granger. The truth doesn't hurt me or my self-esteem. I know that you know perfectly well that I am entirely unsuitable for you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her silent. "Please Granger. Don't try to lie. I know perfectly well what your pendant means." He then offered her a smug smirk. "And even if I didn't know my history, I would have put two and two together once Mother told us how you were able to Apparate from these woods. Not even she can do that you know."

Hermione gasped. Unconsciously she lifted a hand to grasp her seed pendant. "What…what do you mean?" she asked.

"I know what you are. All of us do." He took a step towards her and then another. "By the way, I feel as though I should inform you that Mother never does anything for just one reason. She knows that only Malfoys and dryads can Apparate from these woods—not even the dark lord was able to break that protective spell, much to his dismay. That's why she told you to use this as an Apparition point in the first place."

Hermione drew a long, shuddering breath. She couldn't believe it. She had thought she had hid her secret so well. Now not only Neville knew but all the Malfoys too. "How long?" she asked.

"Fourth year at the Yule Ball," he readily replied. "That was the first time I got a good look at your pendant. I told my parents, but they both insisted I was mistaken. Mother didn't believe me until she saw you at my trial."

"I see." Her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. If Malfoy had known for so long that she was a dryad, did that mean he also knew that he was her mate? She bit her lip. She didn't want to ask, but she had to know. "So you know about…."

"Ah yes. And now we reach the crux of the matter. Like I said before, I am well-versed in Wizarding history and lore, much more than the average wizard. I know all about dryads, perhaps more than you...and that includes how each dryad has a mate."

Hermione paled. She could barely breathe, now that her worst fears had been realized. "So you knew all along? Is that why you were always so—"

"Exasperated with you?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Yes of course. You do seem dedicated to our cause, but the way you ignore your duties—you're a dryad, Granger. You should be out here, speaking with the forest and healing it, not locked up in an office all day, poring over parchment." He rolled his eyes at her. "And that's not the worst of it. You're the last of your line, Granger. You have to claim your mate. If you don't, then we'll lose your lineage too, and let me tell you that there are precious few dryad lineages out there as it is."

Malfoy huffed in frustration and started pacing back and forth. "And so it falls to me, doesn't it? Since the reason why you broke up with the Weasel in the first place was because he was so angry with you speaking up for me, I owe it to you to get the two of you back together." He wrinkled his nose as he shot a disapproving glare at her. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to that. But then fate has never been kind to me. Seeing how you're evidently happy to let your mate marry someone else—"

"He's not my mate," Hermione blurted out. "I don't know what gave you that idea, but Ron's not my mate." _You are_, she added silently to herself but only after looking away. She didn't put it past Malfoy to use legilimency on her. However that only led Malfoy to jump to conclusions as to just why she refused to meet his gaze.

"And you're in utter denial. Great, just great. I never get the easy tasks, do I?" He wiped his brow with a weary hand. "Look, Granger, I know that Weasley is probably not the sort of man you dreamed of marrying when you were a little girl. Merlin knows that his table manners are nothing short of disgusting. But once you accept your fate and get together with him, you will find that he makes you happy. Nothing will ever make you as happy as simply being with him will."

"I know—I know that my mate is the only wizard who could ever make me happy," said Hermione. "But it's not Ron. It's never been Ron. He's just not right for me."

"Stubborn doesn't begin to describe you, does it? Tell me, Granger, who is your mate if it's not Weasley? For it does appear that you do at least know the identity of him." He gave her an appraising look as she refused to answer. "That's what I thought," he said.

"It's not Ron," she repeated. "Honestly, Malfoy, I'm not lying about that. Do you really think that if Ron were my mate that I'd be able to watch him marry another witch without saying a thing?"

"Isn't that what you're doing? But have no fear. Between Mother and me, we will be able to set you up with the wizard of your dreams." He grimaced then. "Even if the very thought of it turns my stomach," he added.

"It's not Ron," she said once more, this time through gritted teeth.

"This is beginning to get tiresome," he noted.

"Indeed," she agreed.

"I suppose I shall simply have to take action without your approval. It's too bad. I had hoped you would cooperate, but I now see that I was being too optimistic. Hopefully you will thank me once you finally see the light."

"For the last time, Malfoy," Hermione said with a stamp of her foot, "Ron is not my mate."

"Well then I'll ask you again. Who is?" he said in that slow drawl that never failed to send shivers down her spine. Haughty silver eyes looked down upon her, all but daring her to challenge him, and before she knew it, she was moving forward. Her skin felt as though it was on fire, and her entire frame was shaking. She could feel the magic in her blood tingling, demanding that she take up Malfoy's challenge and claim her mate, and it would not be denied.

"You are," she announced, and then she leapt towards him. She was on him before he could blink, eager to finally feel his lips upon hers. His form stiffened from shock, and for a split-second, the fear that her advances were unwanted overtook her and nigh broke her heart. But then his arms encircled her as he lifted her up and his mouth opened over hers, and her entire being swelled with joy as he began passionately kissing her back.

Suddenly he broke away from her, panting. His silver eyes looked searchingly into hers. He took a deep breath then asked, "So all this time…your mate…it's been me?"

"Yes!" she all but growled. She crushed her lips against his once more, her hands drifting over his back. For too long she had denied her magic the mate it had chosen for her. It would no longer be ignored, and she wound up claiming her mate there on the forest floor.

* * *

**Author's note: **And that chapter I was going to split into two is now getting split into three. Oh well. This seemed like a reasonable place to stop, seeing how there's no cliffhanger and all. :) As always, my thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.


	11. Chapter 10

**Fated: Chapter Ten**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next day, deliciously sore. She turned over on her side and gazed at her mate. He was so very beautiful although she suspected he would dispute that. She could just see Malfoy turn up his nose at such a description and insist that he was handsome, not beautiful. However to her mind simply calling him handsome was doing him an injustice, not when just looking at him caused her breath to hitch and her heart to start beating faster. A faint blush covered her cheeks as she remembered just how wanton she had acted the night before in the forest. It was a very good thing that her mate had had the stamina to keep up with her demands. Draco appeared to be none the worse for wear this morning.

_I wonder if that means he'll be up for another round this morning._ Her blush deepened as wicked thoughts raced through her head. _No, no. Don't even think about that._ She flopped over onto her back and resolutely looked at the ceiling, determined to drive out those tempting tendrils of desire that were threatening to consume her. It took several minutes, and she wound up having to resort to arithmantic sums, but in the end she managed to overcome her instincts and not jump on her mate first thing. Which was a good thing because he needed his rest, and a bit more sleep wouldn't be a bad idea for her either.

However, tried though she might, sleep didn't come. Rather she was too busy relieving the night before when she finally found out that her mate wanted her almost as much as she wanted him. Even now she could hardly believe it. She glanced over to her right to check if he was still there. The sight of him peacefully slumbering was all the reassurance she needed that last night wasn't a dream.

All the books she had read had emphasized how a dryad needed her mate to be complete, but there were really no words to describe the sheer, unadulterated joy she had felt at finally claiming her mate. She sighed happily to herself.

Just then, Draco's hand reached out to grasp her own. "Something wrong, my love?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

A wide smile broke out on her face, and she turned so she could snuggle into his side. "Nothing's wrong. That was a happy sigh, not sad one," she explained.

"Good," he said. "For a moment there, I was starting to worry that you had convinced yourself that this was wrong or something silly like that."

Hermione found herself snorting at those words. "You did a fair job yourself convincing me that you would never even deign to touch me." There was a touch of accusation in her tone, and he responded to that.

"Yes, I know, darling. I'm sorry. I was absolutely horrid to you, wasn't I?" He pressed his lips against the top of her head. "I am sorry. But you see, I thought that _you_ were never interested and that you would never be mine. And worse—I thought I would bound by duty to match the witch I longed for to a wizard I hold in low regard." He shuddered. "It's no excuse, I know, but that thought always put in me the worst of moods whenever I saw you."

"I see," said Hermione. And indeed she did. Draco, for all his faults, had always been a wizard who took duty seriously. He had thought he owed her a life debt when she spoke up at his trial, keeping him from Azkaban, not knowing that she had been saving both of their lives, not merely his own. He had assumed that Ron was her mate, but she supposed she could understand why. Draco was hardly the only person in the Wizarding World who expected her to eventually get back together with her ex. When Ron's engagement had been announced, Draco must have thought he would have to take matters into his own hands to ensure that Hermione was matched to her mate.

In the end, it was her own fault really. If she had said something to him sooner—but no. Hermione would have never done that because she had been certain that Draco detested her.

"There's nothing we can do to change the past, my love," Draco said, astutely discerning her thoughts. "Dwelling on it now would only be a waste of time—time that I would much rather spend doing something else." The wicked smirk on his face left no doubts as to what sort of activity he was referring to.

"That's an invitation I can't refuse." She paused and lifted up an eyebrow. "That is if you're up to it," she added, her tone one of challenge. His reply was one of action, not words. She squealed as he grasped her to him, crushing his lips against hers before rolling her over so that she was underneath him.

Her mate offered her a smug smirk and then set about proving that he could be most distracting, whether it was on the bed, the floor, or anywhere else. He was so distracting that she didn't realize that she was missing her pendant until after they had finished in the shower. "Oh!" she cried as her hands felt frantically around her neck for her seed pendant. She hadn't ever taken it off before and had believed that it was impossible to do so. Now, however, she realized her mistake, and she was beyond dismay that she had been so careless with it.

"Wondering where your pendant is, are you?" Draco looked at her through hooded eyes. "Enough fun for now, it seems," he said with a sigh. "I guess I better show you where—"

"You know where it is?" Hermione's spirits lifted for she had been afraid that she had lost it forever. "But wait—if you saw me lose it, why didn't you say something then? Especially when you know what it means to me."

"That I do, and I daresay I know more than you in that regards," was his reply. "Come along then and let's get dress. This may come as a surprise to you, but there are some things that can't be learned from books."

Hermione wrinkled her nose but did as he bid. She pushed down her feelings of frustration with him. She owed it to Draco to give him a chance to explain what he meant. She didn't appreciate how cryptic he was being, especially about that remark about some things not being in books, but she was willing to bet he had his reasons. Her time spent with Narcissa had taught her that Slytherins always had their reasons.

Her libido dampened for now, it didn't take that long for the two of them to get dressed. They were off within a quarter hour. Draco held her hand as he led her through the endless corridors of Malfoy Manor. The place was like a maze, but Draco never faltered as he walked. Which made sense, seeing how he had grown up there and all, and that made her wonder how long it would take her before she had the same familiarity with the manor.

That thought made her blush. Somehow Hermione had already become comfortable with the idea of living with her mate, though she had claimed him only the night before. She knew it was sudden and all, but now that he was hers, she couldn't bear the thought of living apart from him.

They stepped foot outside, and Hermione immediately sensed that something had changed with the forest. The forest seemed more vibrant and alive to her senses. She could hear the trees whispering amongst themselves with excitement, even though she was still a distance away from the forest proper.

Draco cast a knowing look back at her. "I imagine that they're rather loud right now," he said.

"You can hear them too?" Hermione hadn't read anything about a dryad's mate being able to understand the forest, but perhaps that was one of the things left unsaid in books.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "It's too soon yet."

She immediately pounced upon the hidden meaning of his words. "But you might then? In the future?" she asked. "That was never in any of my books," she muttered to herself.

"Considering that you probably relied on the Hogwarts library, that doesn't surprise me. You'll find that we have a wider selection of books and parchments about dryads here at the manor. But I'll show you that later." He smiled down at her fondly. "Though I can't hear any of them, something tells me that your forest is eager to greet you now that you're finally an adult."

Hermione was about to take umbrage at that when it struck her that his choice of words was odd. Before she could question him about it, they entered the forest. Immediately she was almost overwhelmed by the cacophony of noise. While she had often heard the gentle whispers of the trees before, particularly when she touched her seed pendant, she had never heard them as clearly as she was right now.

Every tree in the forest, it seemed, was eager to talk to her. A mighty oak rumbled a welcome at her as she passed it by while a small grove of willows all offered her their congratulations, albeit with much giggling. Hermione silently replied to as many trees as she could, and each tree she addressed somehow seemed to stand taller afterwards.

Then they entered the clearing where Hermione had claimed her mate only the night before, and suddenly the busy chatter of the forest ceased. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the center of the clearing, where an ash tree had taken root.

Immediately she knew the tree for what she was—the other half of her heart, which always resided in the forest.

"She's me," Hermione uttered in awe. "We're one and the same." That was what her great-grandmother had meant all those years ago. A dryad wasn't merely a witch. While she had one heart and one soul, she was both tree and witch so she could walk in both worlds and act as a bridge between them. She was a tree so she could understand the ills of the land, and a witch so she could search out cures. Her deep connection to the land, nurtured by her roots, gave her command over nature while it was her bond with her soul's mate that stabilized the wild magic of her line. A dryad needed her mate to access her full powers; without him to support her, her magic would be uncontrollable, bringing great harm to all those around her. That was also why she could only reproduce with her mate because she needed the stability he brought to pass down the magic in her blood for her daughters to carry until her line's next blossom.

Draco cleared his throat from beside her. "So does she have a name?" he asked, nodding towards her tree.

Hermione was about to reply that they shared the same name when her tree interrupted her. _That would be too confusing if we use the same name_, her tree protested.

_But we're one and the same_, Hermione replied.

_Yes. One heart, but split in two. We each have a different role to play in our sacred duty to guard the land, and we will fail without the other. My witch is Hermione. I am Althea, _her tree said. Hermione didn't completely understand her tree's logic, but it sounded right to her. Though they were the two halves of the same soul, each half had its own personality and its own ideas about how best to perform the duty for which they had been born.

"My tree is Althea," she said slowly. She turned towards Draco. "And I think I would very much like to see the collection of books you have on dryads right about now."

Any lingering doubts Hermione had regarding Draco's suitability as her mate were erased as soon as she saw the size of his library. "Oh wow," she said softly.

"Like what you see?" Draco asked, glancing at her sideways.

"Do you even have to ask?" she replied airily. She drifted over to the closest shelf so she could peruse the selection. To her delight, she had only read a handful of the books on the shelf. She couldn't keep herself from grinning like a fool as she mentally calculated how long it would take her to work her way through that single shelf.

"I hate to interrupt you, especially when you're enjoying yourself so much," Draco's voice floated from behind her, "but the books I wanted to show you are in the back room."

"The back room?" she repeated.

"Yes, for the books that make up the most priceless part of our collection. It's to keep them from falling into the wrong hands."

She quirked up an eyebrow at that remark. While Hermione loved her mate, that didn't mean she was blind to his nature. "Dark art books?" she queried.

"Some," he answered. "But not all—not even the majority, I would wager. We don't sort books into the back room out of subject matter, but on whether or not they're replaceable. In any case, while we do have books on dryads in our regular collection, the ones I think you'll find most helpful are in the back room." He led her towards a large fireplace on the right side of the library. Standing before it, he touched a series of stones, so quickly that Hermione couldn't catch their order. A moment later, the fireplace seemed to shudder in place before sliding away to reveal another room.

He stepped inside and beckoned with one hand for her to follow him. She did so cautiously. She took a deep breath as she entered. From the mere smell of the tomes, she could tell that the vast majority of them were ancient. The room itself was icy, a consequence of all the protective wards placed upon it to protect the parchment from the passage of time. She could understand why Malfoy and his family kept this part of their collection so well hidden; if Aurors or anyone else were to raid the place and remove the books, half of them were likely to disintegrate as soon as they were beyond the reach of the wards.

"Here," said Draco. He shoved a pair of small journals towards Hermione. "I think you should start with these."

Hermione turned the two books in her hand and then opened the first one. Her lips twisted up into a frown as she saw that it was written in Old English. "I'll need a translation spell to read these," she noted. "Will they hold up against such magic?"

"They will. I read them myself as a boy, with Father casting the charm for me," answered Draco. "You will have to stay here to read them, but I think you'll find it comfortable enough in our library. When you're done with those, there are more journals on the third bookcase on the right of the entrance." He pointed them out to her. "Now I am very sorry to have to leave you like this, my dear, but I'm afraid I have to go in to work today."

"Work?" Hermione repeated. "Oh! I completely forgot!" Her jaw dropped open. She didn't even want to think about how late she was to work. Her face burned hotly. _How am I going to explain this one to Drew?_ she wondered. _Best not to and just apologize, I think._

"Thank you," said Hermione, pressing the two books back towards Draco, "but I'm late to work myself. I'll just have to read them later tonight."

"And here I thought there were more rewarding activities we could indulge in this evening," said Draco. He grinned boyishly at her, and that was all that was needed for a wave of lust to wash over her once again.

"Stop that," she said. "You're distracting me, and you know it."

"I'm awfully good at that, aren't I?" He preened in front of her.

"Not helping here," Hermione ground out. It was too bad there wasn't a clock around. If it wasn't too late, then surely there was time for her to enjoy another round with her mate. It had been late morning when they were out in the forest, and so it was probably before noon still. Seeing how she was late already, what difference would another hour make? She eyed her mate critically. _Hmm...against the wall or on the table. Choices, choices. Both ultimately of course, but I have to start somewhere._

Draco coughed and backed away from her. "Sorry, my love. I should know better than to tempt my nymph."

"But I like being tempted." Hermione licked her lips and took a step closer to him. They could start with the wall then the table, she decided. One after the other so she could compare and see which position would allow him deeper. She rubbed her thighs together as she felt her core flare to life with want for him.

"Yes, I can see that," said Draco. "But I'm afraid I really must get going. Don't worry about going to work yourself. I'll drop by to let Drew know that you're helping out here. That way I can ask him myself about lands for the foundation to buy."

"Great idea," said Hermione, "but I have an even better one."

Her mate gulped nervously as she continued to approach him. She tilted her head to one side, confused at his reaction. She had thought that he had rather enjoyed shagging her. Certainly she couldn't get enough of him, and she thought the feeling was mutual. She paused in her steps. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied. "Except I don't really have time to—"

Instantly Hermione understood the source of his hesitation. "I see," she said. She bit her lip as she tried to contain her emotions. He didn't really want her. Last night had only been because he had been taken by surprise, and as for their time together this morning, it wasn't as though he could have escaped from her, seeing how she had woke up before him. She schooled her face, not wanting to let her disappointment show, and turned her attention back to the books he had given her. "Any particular reason why you want me to start with these?" she asked, desperately needing a change of subject so as to fight back the tears.

"Those are the personal journals of my ancestor, Sylvain Malfoi, and his wife, Ceola. He came here from France to seek his fortune and was honored when a dryad named him as her mate."

Hermione gasped, completely stunned by that revelation. She had never expected him to say anything like that. Draco took advantage of her shock, stealing one kiss from her before making good his escape.

* * *

**Author's note: **A short update again, but I think that shorter but more frequent updates are a good thing. At least that's what I'm aiming for.

My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Apparently it was more of a cliffhanger than I thought. I was rather surprised by that since I thought I had a happy (and steamy) ending implied and all. Oh well. In any case, I do think that this chapter is a little bit of a cliffie but not that bad. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


	12. Chapter 11

**Fated: Chapter Eleven**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Hermione closed the book she had been reading and set it down on the table. She clasped her hands together and stretched her arms in front of her, flexing her fingers so that her knuckles cracked. Letting her arms drop to her side, she rolled her shoulders and winced. She was sore after spending so many hours hunched over reading the assorted books the room contained on dryads, but the knowledge she had gained from them was well worth it.

Hermione had started with the two that Malfoy had handed her before he had fled. Ceola Malfoi's journal at times resembled a bad romance novel. She spent many pages describing her dreams of her mate and how she knew he would come to help her save her home. Hermione had rolled her eyes often while reading that portion as Ceola would often wax rhapsodic over the hero she believed fated had chosen for her. It had got so bad that Hermione had wanted to shout for the silly witch to stop waiting for her wizard and do something.

However Ceola's dreams had come true. Sylvain Malfoi had indeed lived up to that dryad's fantasies. After bonding with her, he had taken up her duty as his own. He curried favor at court and was rewarded with what was the heart of the Malfoy estate. Over the years, he managed to expand his holdings, utilizing both his wit and his wand to do so. In her journal, Ceola exulted how her mate was the sword she wielded in protection of her forest. Hermione hated to admit it, but the dryad's strategy of letting her wizard do all the work was a winning one.

Hermione didn't think she could stomach it herself however. Although Ceola had written pages and pages about how she spent her days in the forest, communing with the trees and healing the lands ill, Hermione couldn't see herself lazing about talking to trees while there was real work to do. But then she supposed that was the difference between now and then. Witches were more empowered now, and Hermione had always taken advantage of that fact.

Sylvain's journal had been almost as melodramatic as that of his mate, albeit in its own manner. He waxed on and on about what an honor it was for him to be chosen to share his dryad's duty and how it proved the power of his bloodline. Sylvain was also far more graphic than Ceola when it came to describing their bedroom activities. Hermione did her best to skip those parts. She really didn't want to know what Malfoy's ancestors had got up to when in private.

Both journals had really shed a light on Draco's actions for Hermione. She understood now that his family held dryads in high regard; in addition to Sylvain, only one other Malfoy had been the chosen mate of a dryad and he was held to be one of the most powerful wizards of their lineage. She could see how Draco would be proud to share that distinction. Furthermore, throughout the years, the Malfoy family had continued to protect both the forests on their lands and elsewhere. That was also why Draco was always there to lend her department a helping hand. The Malfoys had evidently felt it was their duty to carry on both Sylvain's and Ceola's work.

That explained a lot really—especially Draco's reaction to her revelation that he was her mate. He had been ecstatic, not because he loved her or anything silly like that, but because he felt it was confirmation that he was worthy of the Malfoy name. He had been just as eager to consummate their bond as she was, because he believed that to be his duty. And Hermione knew all too well just how seriously Draco took familial duties—she only needed to think back to his actions of their sixth year to gauge the strength of his commitment to that.

So he would stand beside her, out of duty and pride, but there would be no real affection in his heart. No, scratch that—there would be affection perhaps, seeing how he didn't dislike her, but he wouldn't love her.

Hermione let out a soft moan and rested her head in her arms. She was being silly, and she knew it. Just a few days ago, she had thought that her mate had despised her. Now being faced with a lifetime together with him truly being fond of her—it was an embarrassment of riches in comparison.

It was just too bad she couldn't talk her heart out of wanting more. It was such a greedy thing, her heart. It wasn't enough for her just to have her mate—no, it wanted Malfoy to love her as desperately as she loved him.

Hermione allowed herself one last sigh before standing up to put away the books. As fascinating as they had been—especially the few snippets she found about the origin of her kind—she needed to get away from them. The reality of Draco just being with her because he felt it was his duty wasn't something she wanted to linger over. She didn't want to wallow in self-pity; she wanted to be move on and be grateful that she at least had him. And the best way for her to do that was to keep busy.

She stepped out of the back room and turned around to figure out how to close the entrance. Before she could lift her wand, however, the fireplace slid back into place, concealing the room once more. "That's handy," she remarked to herself.

Hermione strode across the library towards the entrance. She stopped in front of the doors. Getting something to eat sounded like a good idea, but the only thing was she didn't know how to get to the kitchen from here. She wrinkled her nose. _I should have asked Draco for a map before he left. That would have been the practical thing to do. But no, my mind was hung up over more immediate needs—for all the good that did me. Oh well. Must ask about that the next time I see him. For now...well maybe taking a look at the corridor will jog my memory._

She shrugged her shoulders and then pushed open the door. She looked to her right and then to her left, but there were no landmarks that she remembered. She glanced at the walls but they were bare of any portraits for her to question. _Lovely. Well perhaps it's best I stay here. Don't want to get lost and all._ But just then her stomach grumbled loudly, letting her know in no uncertain terms that staying put wasn't an option.

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to remember the path Draco had taken. _Let's see...we turned right to get to the door, which means I should go left now. I think._ She took another minute to get her bearings and then set off, heading down the left corridor. It wasn't long before she reached another intersection. She came to a halt. She didn't remember taking any turns this close to the library so she decided just to go straight for now. _After all, worst case scenario, I can always turn around and make my way back to the library_, she thought. Before she could take another step, however, a voice rang out from behind her.

"Oh there you are, Hermione!" cried Narcissa. Hermione turned around and was relieved to see the blonde witch approaching her. "My apologies for not checking on you earlier. I only learned a matter of minutes ago that Draco had left you in the library." The older witch sighed in exasperation. "Silly boy didn't even think that you might not be able to find your way around the manor."

"It is somewhat larger than my flat," Hermione noted dryly.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "You have no idea how long it took me to learn how to get from my bedroom to the breakfast table when I first married Lucius," she stated. "It didn't help that my darling husband thought that I was playing some sort of kinky version of hide and seek with him."

That was more than Hermione ever needed to know. She coughed nervously, not knowing quite what to say. "So did you ever get a map then?" she wound up asking.

"No," Narcissa said shortly, "nor did I ever get to put up sign posts. Lucius insisted that the manor's layout was an integral part of its defense, and any map made would invariably fall into the wrong hands. But then Lucius always believed in taking paranoia to new levels. But enough of my reminiscing. You must be starving by now. Let's get you something to eat."

"That sounds good to me," Hermione agreed. She willingly followed the older witch's lead. She answered Narcissa's questions along the way absently for she was focused upon remembering the path they were taking. That way the next time she was in the library she would be able to find her own way out. Of course she only would be able to make it to the kitchens from there, but she had to start learning her way around somehow and this seemed as good a place to start as any.

Hermione raised an eyebrow as Narcissa walked past both the dining room and the kitchen, stopping instead at a small room off to the side of the kitchen. "I prefer to eat here when I'm just by myself," the other witch explained. "The dining room is simply too big for just one person—or even two for that matter. And as for the kitchen…well I would rather not bother the elves. The poor dears can't work if I'm around as they're too busy trying to anticipate anything I might need."

The older witch strode towards the table in the center of the room and then clapped her hands together. "Dot!" she called out, and a small house elf dressed in an apron appeared. "Hermione here hasn't eaten all day, I believe, so do have the kitchen send some of her favorite things along with a pot of tea for myself."

The house elf simply nodded her head and then disappeared. In a matter of minutes, a small feast was resting on the table. Hermione held back a sigh as she took a seat across from Narcissa. There was no use in complaining about the house elves. For one, she didn't want to insult her hostess, especially not when the witch was also the mother of her mate, and what was more, the elves wouldn't appreciate such interference any way. She took solace in the fact that the treatment of the elves was monitored as part of Lucius' early release from Azkaban, and so they could no longer be punished by being locked up in the water tower or worse.

Hermione filled her plate and then looked over to Narcissa, who was calmly sipping a cup of tea. "You're not hungry?" she asked.

"Oh no," said Narcissa. "Not at all, I'm afraid, otherwise I would have something. I had a late lunch—earlier than yours but still late—with Draco, you see."

Hermione froze in place as a million thoughts raced through her mind, not the least of which was that evidently Draco had time for his mother but not for her. _More proof of what I feared_, she decided. However she was too proud to let her dismay show, and so she soldiered on with her meal, determined to put on a happy face.

Thankfully Narcissa hadn't seen the brief flash of pain that had crossed Hermione's face, and she continued to talk. "Draco has a tendency to lose himself in his work," she explained. "His father was much the same way before I finally convinced him to hand over the reins to Draco. That's probably where Draco picked up that bad habit, so I make the effort to drop by his office at times and see that he gets a proper lunch. I think he appreciates it, but you can never be certain with that boy. He knows how to hide his feelings well." The blonde witch shot a sly glance over at Hermione. "Though something tells me that he wouldn't mind it at all if you were the one to interrupt him at his office in the future."

Hermione half-choked on the bread she was eating. "I'm not so sure about that," she muttered once she had recovered.

"Oh?" Narcissa lifted up one elegant eyebrow at that remark. Then she glanced to the side and over at Hermione's hands. "I see. Silly boy. That will be remedied very soon, if he knows what's good for him," the older witch said with a twitch of her nose.

A chuckle sounded from behind them. Hermione twisted around in her seat and saw that Draco was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest and a slight smirk upon his lips. "You have no idea how much it warms my heart to come home and find that my two favorite witches in the world are speaking of me."

"And how do you know that we were speaking of you?" his mother asked him. "We could have been speaking of any number of wizards that both Hermione and I know. This is why you have a reputation for having a large ego."

"I think the key words there are 'could have been'. You could have been, but if that were truly the case, you would have said as much," was Draco's reply.

"There is such a thing as being too clever for one's own good, son of mine."

"I know. Father always said I got that from you."

Narcissa set down her cup with a large sigh and then rolled her eyes. "You are both impossible," she declared. "It is truly a wonder that I have any semblance of sanity left."

Draco opened his mouth, but then evidently thought the better of it as he didn't say a word.

"In any event, now that you are here, I will let you keep Hermione company while she eats as I still have so much to prepare for tomorrow," Narcissa said.

Hermione whipped her head around. "That's right!" she cried. "The party is tomorrow! Is there anything you need me to do?" she asked.

"Nothing for now, my dear, as I have it well in hand. Thank you for asking," Narcissa replied.

"But there must be something I could help with," said Hermione. "It doesn't seem right for me to be relaxing the entire day while you're so busy."

Narcissa shook her head from side to side. "Don't worry about it. I have all the help I need. Please do eat though and keep up your strength as I do expect to see you there." Suddenly a large smile appeared on the older witch's face as she winked at Hermione. "And if you find that you want to make any additional announcements at the gala…well an advance warning would be very much appreciated." With that, she waved good bye, leaving Hermione alone with her mate.

"That's Mother for you," said Draco with a snort once Narcissa was no longer in earshot. "I love her, but I have to admit that she never stops scheming." He shrugged ironically. "Though this time I'm rather certain I know what she's up to. She was hardly subtle the way she berated me at lunch."

Hermione bit her lip. That was a bit of a sore point with her. She knew it was very silly—how could she get jealous of Draco meeting his mother for lunch—but it still rankled. "Did you have a nice lunch?" she asked, although she really didn't want to know.

Malfoy looked at her through half-lidded eyes. "No, I didn't. Being on the receiving end of a lecture from Mother is never any fun. I would have much rather come home and taken my lunch alone with you."

"But you didn't," Hermione couldn't help but point out.

"No," said Malfoy, "because I rather thought your head would still be buried in a book. As it is, I'm rather surprised to find you here rather than still in the library."

"I got hungry."

"I see," Malfoy said. He watched her silently as she continued to eat. "I suppose I should have anticipated you stopping for lunch, seeing how much energy you burned up last night."

Hermione flushed. She really didn't want to talk about their bedroom activities, not with the way Malfoy had fled from her advances this morning. She shrugged her shoulders. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I usually stop for lunch, no matter what I might be researching. I need to keep up my energy and all."

"Oh! Is that your excuse? And not something else?" His drawl left little doubt what he was referring to, and Hermione's blush only deepened.

She decided to change the subject. "So, to get back to my original question, did you have a nice lunch with your mother?" She didn't quite growl, but it was close.

"I do believe I already answered that." Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't tell me that you're jealous."

"Of course not!" Hermione knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all her mate.

"Well you shouldn't be. And believe you me, if I had known Mother was planning to ambush me, I would have made my escape before she even entered the building, much less my office." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Don't ever tell her that I told you this, but Mother can get awfully bossy at times. You know she has already started planning our wedding, right?"

"Wedding?" Hermione echoed. For once in her life, she found that she didn't know what to say. It was one thing to know intellectually that she would one day marry her mate; it was another thing to confront the reality that said marriage would be occurring sooner rather than later.

"Yes, our wedding. You were planning on making an honest wizard out of me, I hope."

She choked at that. "I don't think that's possible," she muttered.

Her mate threw back his head and laughed. "You know me too well, my love. I am far too Slytherin for that."

Hermione clenched her fork in her fist. She didn't like the sound of that. It was as though he was already planning on—she shook her head fiercely, determined not to think of such things. Her actions didn't go unnoticed by her mate, who then proved that he knew _her_ all too well.

"Fidelity and honesty are two entirely different qualities, I believe," Malfoy said in a short, brittle tone. "I may never be completely honest in my business dealings, but I swear to you, I will always be loyal to you."

Her heart leapt for joy at that statement, but that washed away a second later as she remembered what was driving him—duty and nothing else. The best she could hope for from him was affection, not love. Still it was more than she had had the day before, and so she resolved to be grateful for that much. "Thank you," she said, looking up to meet his eyes. "I know I'm being silly and all but…thank you. It means so much to me to hear you say that."

Draco smiled gently at her as he made his way to sit down beside her. "Never fear, my nymph," he said as he pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head. "I promise I'll make you happy."

"You already have," she told him.

"Not happy enough. I fear I might have given you the wrong impression the way I left this morning," he said.

She stiffened in her seat. She really didn't want to have this conversation ever. It hurt too much to think of the way he had rejected her. Even now the pain was deep enough to move her to tears, and she was proud enough to not want him to see her cry. "I understand why you left," she said in a small voice. "You're a very busy man, and you had business dealings to deal with."

"But never too busy for you, my love, and don't you forget it. While it's true that I did wind up doing some work today once I got to the office, the real reason why I had to leave was so that I could pick up something at Gringotts. This." He withdrew a small, velvet box from the sleeve of his robes and pushed it towards her.

A small gasp escaped Hermione when she saw the box. She knew very well what was in it—the Malfoy engagement ring. "You…you don't think it's too soon?" she asked her mate breathlessly.

"Do you?" he asked. "I am fortunate enough that you will always be mine, and though I know it hasn't been that long since we first bonded…well if anything I think that my proposal is long overdue. As does Mother," he added with an eye roll. He opened the box for her and took out an elegant emerald ring, which he slid on to her hand. "There. It fits perfectly." He lifted up her chin with a finger so that her eyes met his. "I do hope, my nymph, that you will find it in your heart to be my bride."

There wasn't any way she could say no to that.

"Yes," she said. She jerked her head away from his grasp so that she could look down at the ring adorning her hand. While she loved Malfoy and truly wanted to be with him forever, she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was moving so fast. _No_, she thought. _It's not that everything's moving too fast per se. It's that everything is changing so fast that it feels like I'm losing control of my life. And I don't like that, not one bit._

"Somehow," said Draco, "you don't look half as happy as I thought you would." Her attention returned to her mate, and she was startled to see his shoulders drooping in disappointment.

So she put on a smile and pushed her worries aside. "But I am happy," she stated. "It's just that…I never thought that you and I…that we would ever be together and so it's still so hard to believe that this is real." She smiled shyly up at him and then impulsively drew him into a kiss. Before she knew it, they were back in their bedroom with her in his arms, as passion raged fervently between the two lovers once more.

* * *

**Author's note:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the last one. :D


	13. Chapter 12

**Fated: Chapter Twelve**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

"Darling!" Draco whined. "Come back to bed! It's too early to be up and about!"

Hermione shot a disbelieving glance at her mate, who was still sprawled across their bed. "Draco!" she said sharply. "It's almost two."

"So?" he asked challengingly.

She let out a deep sigh and rubbed her temples. "Don't tell me you've forgotten what today is. The gala that your mother and I have been planning is tonight, and I simply must help her."

"Trust me, Hermione, Mother has everything well in hand. I doubt that she's even expecting to see you any time soon. Besides," he said with a playful grin crossing his lips as he waggled his eyebrows at her, "I don't happen to recall Mother's list forbidding me from missing her party because I was busy assuring my nymph that I love her very much."

Hermione felt herself blushing once more. It was stupid how easily her cheeks turned red whenever she thought of all the sex she had with Draco. One would think that she would have lost her ability to blush after all the time they spent abed. "I thought your mother decided just to insist on your attendance," she sputtered.

"No, she didn't. Though you gave her that awful idea—and it is truly horrendous, my dear—she never officially told Father and I that we had to be there or else. Even if that were the case, I think she would forgive me this one time."

"And you're willing to gamble on that?"

"You'll find that I'm willing to gamble on many things, darling. Besides I think it's still far too early to deal with Mother today."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "Did you forget that it's almost two?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Hardly. I just think that's too early for Mother to start bothering us about whether we'll announce our engagement at the ball tonight."

"Oh." That thought hadn't even occurred to Hermione. She sat down on the bed beside Draco in complete shock over his claim. Seeing how they had just got together two days ago and that Draco had only proposed yesterday—it seemed far too soon to make a public announcement like that. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was little help. Just the thought of how her friends would react to the news was enough to send her into a panic.

Malfoy seemed to sense her distress, and he pulled himself up into a sitting position. "There, there," he said. He reached a hand out towards her and pulled her against his side. "We will tell Mother no," he said quietly.

Unfortunately that didn't calm Hermione down. "But she'll ask why. And what if she decides to do so—"

"Even though we told her not to?" Draco finished. "She wouldn't do that, especially not when I remind her that tonight is supposed to be about the new Malfoy Foundation. The news about our engagement is certain to overshadow it, and we don't want that to happen."

Hermione closed her eyes and snuggled against her mate, relishing in his warmth. His reasoning was sound, and so Narcissa was likely to accept it. However, sooner rather than later, their relationship would become public, and she wasn't looking forward to that.

Of all her friends, the only one she could count on supporting her was Neville, and that was because he knew what she was. Luna would probably be all right with it—and frankly it wouldn't surprise Hermione all that much if the Ravenclaw suspected something—but Hermione was certain that the rest of her friends had no idea that she was keeping such a secret from them. She supposed she could tell all of them that she was a dryad but that would only open up another can of worms.

Harry and Ron were certain to start demanding why she hadn't told them earlier. She didn't really have a good reason for not telling them, at least not in the beginning. During their early years at Hogwarts, she hadn't ever revealed her secret to them simply because they were boys and she didn't think they would listen, much less care. Later on, after she discovered the identity of her mate, she didn't tell them because she didn't want them to be ashamed of her. Instinct told Hermione that Harry and Ron would take umbrage at both of those explanations.

However, she doubted that she would be able to keep it a secret from her friends forever. Hermione knew it would go much better for her if she told them herself rather than have them stumble over her ancestry somehow.

"Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?" Draco's question roused Hermione from her thoughts. Startled she looked over at him. He was frowning at her, and his brow was furrowed.

"Sorry," she said. "I just…well I was thinking about…."

"About how your friends would react to us?"

Hermione grimaced. She didn't want to give Draco the wrong idea. She didn't want him to think that she was ashamed of him in any way. "Yes and no," she told him. "Obviously I don't want either Harry or Ron leaping to conclusions and thinking that I'm under _Imperio _or worse." She bit her lower lip.

"I assure you, my love, I'm capable of defending myself if they attack me," Draco said proudly. He reached for his wand and gave it a twirl as a smirk formed on his face as he thought of what spells would be best to use on her friends.

"I know that. And even if you weren't, I could. I would like to avoid any sort of violence." She sniffed haughtily. "Obviously," she added with a toss of her head.

"I know that," he said, mimicking her words and inflection. Then her mate had the gall to roll his eyes at her as though she was the one being impossible. "But putting that aside, I was going to remark that it does no good to worry about how they'll react. Good or bad, we can't possibly anticipate their reaction," he pointed out.

Hermione sighed. He had a point. "I suppose so. I guess there's no way to break the news to them gently, and because of that, we can't have a plan in place to deal with their reaction."

"Exactly. My best advice is to tell them in public at the ball so they won't make a scene."

"Um…have you met my friends? Because as much as I love them and all, I am not blind to their faults. And trust me, Ron gets very loud when he is upset about something."

"Hmm." Draco tilted his head to one side as he thought about it. "You're right, aren't you?"

"Thanks," Hermione muttered.

Draco went on as though he hadn't heard her. "And Potter isn't that much better than Weasley. While he understands the concept of discretion, he's not exactly known for exercising it."

"I wouldn't go quite that far," said Hermione.

Draco snorted in disbelief. "Very well then. Far be it for me to contradict you, especially not when you were right about your main point. It probably wouldn't work to our advantage to tell your friends in public."

"No, it wouldn't. Unfortunately I don't see what other options we have. It's going to be obvious after tonight, and it's not like I can see them beforehand."

"Why not?" asked Draco. "You could send them an owl, asking them to arrive a bit early so you can talk to them about the plans for tonight."

Hermione cocked her head to one side as she thought about his suggestion. "That could work…so long your mother can truly spare me. And also I would have to take care that we wouldn't get in her way."

"Mother can spare you. Trust me, she'll be the one to suggest it if it will help everything go smoothly tonight." Draco frowned then and sighed. "Sometimes I am too clever for my own good. We kind of have to get up now to take care of everything, don't we?" He looked peeved at the mere thought of having to get out of bed.

"My apologies, my love." Hermione ducked forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. It was oh-so tempting for her to turn it into something more, but she knew that they had no time to waste. So she pulled back and then hopped out of bed.

"You're a cruel, cruel woman," Draco complained but followed her lead. "Tempting me like that with no intention of going any further."

"Maybe later tonight," Hermione said with an absent wave of her hand. She placed one hand on her hip as she looked at her set of robes strewn about a chair. She hadn't returned home yesterday, and so she didn't really have anything to wear.

"You know," said Draco, walking up to stand behind her, "if you don't have anything to wear, we could always remain here. That would put off the problem of telling your friends for another day."

"And I'll ask you again—what would your mother say?"

"Even if she gets upset, I am certain she will forgive me eventually," spoke Draco, his breath hot in her ear.

Hermione closed her eyes to maintain her focus. "You're impossible. You really don't know when to give up, do you?"

She felt rather than saw the shrug of shoulders he offered in response. "Blame it on the Gryffindor I'm mated to. She seems to be a bad influence on me. Oh well. Can't say that I didn't try. As for your clothing situation, we can have Dot bring some over from your flat." Draco stepped back and then clapped his hands together, calling for the house elf. When Dot appeared, he quickly ordered the small thing to fetch Hermione several sets of robes from her home, including formal robes for the evening.

"Oh!" Hermione cried before the elf could leave. "And my cat too, if you can find her." The elf nodded once and then was gone.

"Granger! You left your poor little kitten all alone in your flat for the last two days?" asked Draco.

She turned around to face him. "Yes I did," she said. "And don't give me that look. Her food and water bowls are magically enchanted to refill while her litter box has been charmed to be self-cleaning so she has everything she needs there. She's a cat, not a dog. She can take care of herself." Hermione shook her head and walked back to the bed to await the house elf's return.

"I would have never expected you to say that," Draco remarked. "Especially not after the way you doted on that orange monster in school."

"I doted on Crookshanks because there were times when I felt like he was my only friend," she told him.

"I see," he said and sat down beside her. He took her hand into his and squeezed it. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, Dot reappeared before them.

"Here," the small elf said grumpily, dumping a small mountain of robes on to the bed. "I is coming back. I is not letting that creature win," she proclaimed with a scary gleam in her eyes before vanishing away once more.

"Oh dear," said Hermione. "It sounds like Shadow is giving her a bit of trouble."

"And to think I was worried about your cat," Draco said with a rueful shake of his head. "Don't worry. Dot will return with your cat in hand sooner or later. For now, it's best that we get ready…before I change my mind."

* * *

Hermione paced back and forth nervously. After getting dressed, she and Draco had sought out Narcissa. As Draco had surmised, the older witch had easily acquiesced to Hermione taking the time before the ball to break the news of her relationship to her friends. Narcissa had even suggested that she and Draco use one of the smaller sitting rooms for the meeting. So Hermione had sent out letters to her friends with portkeys attached, asking all of them to meet her before the ball started so she could speak to them about an important matter.

Reaching the end of the rug, she sighed and turned around once more. She rubbed her hands together as she walked, trying to find a way to calm her nerves. "Hermione, do sit down," Draco called out to her from his perch on a large sofa. "Watching you fret like that is making me nervous."

She scrunched up her nose but did as he bade her, plopping down beside him. "Sorry," she said. "I just can't stop worrying, it seems. It would help if I knew what I was going to say but alas I don't."

"Well, as I see it, there are two options before us. We can either tell them the entire story, including all about your heritage, or we can simply inform them that the two of us are in a long term relationship," Draco pointed out.

That brought a small smile to Hermione's face. It was nice to be able to count on her mate to be the voice of reason when she was trying not to panic.

"I wish I knew which option would be best," she said. "I suppose eventually they'll find out about it all so maybe it's better to tell them sooner rather than later. The only thing is that if I tell them everything….well I would like to make an appearance tonight at the ball rather than spending the entire evening trying to placate them."

"Indeed. I won't argue with that sentiment," said Draco. He pulled her into his lap and rested his head on top of hers. "But haven't we been over this? You don't know how they're going to react so we are just going to have to play it by ear. If it seems that they might calm down if you offer them more of an explanation, then we'll do that and tell them how you're a dryad. If it appears that will do no good—or even perhaps make things work—then we will withhold that information for now."

"I guess," said Hermione, doubt coloring her tone. She sighed. "It's not as though I have any better ideas at the moment. Although…."

"What?" Draco prodded her.

"I invited Neville along too, and well…he already knows."

"Longbottom?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Huh. I wouldn't have expected that. I guess it makes sense given his affinity for Herbology. So how long has he known? Not as long as me, I bet," he added, puffing out his chest proudly.

Before Hermione could reply, a chime sounded in the room, signaling that one or more of her friends had activated their portkey. She immediately untangled herself from Draco's embrace and jumped up. Her mate rolled his eyes at her but nonetheless also rose from his seat. A second later, a familiar redhead appeared before them.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried. She rushed forward to give her friend a quick hug, which Hermione eagerly returned. Ginny pulled back and winced, rubbing the back of her head with one head. "Ouch," she said. "My head hurts. Shouldn't have done that, not right after using a portkey."

"Are you all right? Do you want to sit down?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm fine, thanks." Ginny glanced over at Draco, and a mask descended over her face. "Hello Malfoy," she said in a neutral tone.

"Good evening, Weasley," he replied pleasantly.

The redhead squinted her eyes. She looked back and forth between Hermione and Draco several times rapidly. Then she turned to Hermione. "So my source wasn't wrong after all?" she asked, cocking up one eyebrow.

Hermione mentally winced. "No," she said.

Now both of Ginny's eyebrows were raised. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Would I lie to you?"

"When it suited your purposes, yes."

"Well I wasn't then," Hermione snapped. "I was feeling faint that day."

"But that's not the whole story, is it?" Ginny said with a solemn set to her shoulders.

"For some reason, I'm feeling rather extraneous to the conversation here," Draco drawled. "No matter. Please go on. Don't worry about filling me in."

Hermione sighed. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. That helped clear her head enough for her to decide who to answer first. "We were seen together at the restaurant the other day," she told Draco. "Naturally Ginny heard about it since she writes for _Witch Weekly_."

"I see," said Draco. "And so when she brought it up to you, you claimed that you were merely feeling faint." He shook his head in barely concealed derision. "How did you fall for that one, Weasley?" he asked.

"That's because I believe in trusting my friends," Ginny said through gritted teeth, "even when I shouldn't apparently."

"Like I said, I wasn't lying. Not back then. You know how side along affects me. You've seen that before," Hermione pointed out. "When I told you there was nothing between us, that was the perfect truth."

"Was," Ginny said archly, "but not any longer, right?"

There was no point in denying it, especially not when Hermione had summoned her friends over to tell them about her new relationship. "No, not any longer."

"Which explains why you looked so happy when I arrived. That's good. You deserve to be happy." Ginny grinned wickedly then. "And you can start thanking me now."

"Excuse me? Thank you for what?" Hermione was at a loss. She had no clue what her friend was referring to. Perhaps how she killed the story about the two of them the other day?

"For making certain to get here early before my husband or my brother. Don't tell me you think that they're going to be happy about this."

"I was kind of hoping they would be happy that I'm happy." Hermione's shoulders slumped forward. "Not expecting, mind you, but hoping."

"Just as well as expecting maturity from the two of them is fruitless," noted the younger witch.

Hermione winced. "They've got better over the years."

"Not by much." Ginny rolled her eyes.

Draco poked Hermione in her shoulder. Startled she glanced up to meet his eyes. "How come you let Weasley insult the wonder twins but not me?" he asked.

Before Hermione could answer, however, Ginny spoke up. "Hey! I'm allowed to make fun of them. I've had to put up with Ron for ages, and believe you me, living with Harry is hardly a walk in the park."

"I'll take you word for it," said Draco.

Another chime sounded, and a second later, Neville arrived. "Oh good," said Ginny as the new arrival regained his balance. "More reinforcements."

"You almost make it sound as though we're going to war," Hermione noted.

"You mean we're not?" Ginny gave her a look and snorted. "Just as well I'm here. At least we'll break the news to Harry and Ron with a minimal amount of screaming."

"What news?" Neville asked.

"Dear Hermione here has taken it into her head to give Malfoy a chance," Ginny said briskly, "despite the fact that my husband and my brother are certain to protest her doing so. Loudly. And at length."

"Wait! You mean Malfoy is— Neville turned around to peer at Hermione, a silent question in his eyes. Hermione nodded her head in answer, hoping that Neville knew better than to press further.

Her friend got the hint. "I see," he said. "Congratulations then." He glanced over at Draco. "And by the way, Malfoy, if you do anything to hurt her, I swear I'll kill you."

"You'll have to get in line first," said Ginny, "as I know plenty of people who are certain to share that sentiment. But first things first, let's get ready to deal with the last two coming. Now here's what I think we should do."

* * *

Hermione risked a glance in Harry's direction and winced. Ginny was still hanging on to his arm with a determined look on her face. Obviously her friend was still upset at the news she had given him not that long ago.

The dryad sighed softly to herself. Despite Ginny and Neville's help, Harry and Ron had been anything but happy with the fact that Hermione was now with Draco. It had taken ages to calm those two down, and the only thing that had worked was Neville flat out telling them that the more they argued with the brunette witch, the more stubborn she would be about staying with Draco. The sensible wizard had gone on to point out that the most reasonable course of action for them to take was for them to hope for the best for their friend but to plan for the worst.

That had shut the both of them up, but Hermione and her allies knew better than to hope such silence would last the entire evening. So it was that Ginny had volunteered to stay by Harry's side and make sure that he stayed on his best behavior. They enrolled Padma to do the same for Ron. So far that strategy seemed to be working. Any time Harry even so much as started to scowl in Malfoy's direction, Ginny would elbow him. As for Ron, he hadn't dared to step a foot out of line yet as he knew that his fiancée was not in the best of moods after the fiasco with the engagement parties.

Suddenly a sharp burst of pain ran through Hermione's gut. Instinctively she turned around and sought her mate out. Draco was standing off to the side of the banquet table. Next to him was a witch who was entirely too beautiful and flirty for Hermione's peace of mind. She half-growled to herself, and with her hands curled in to fists, she stalked over to her mate. Hermione was going to make it perfectly clear to that bimbo that she had better back off from Draco or else.

"What a wonderful idea this foundation is," the blonde witch said as she coquettishly fluttered her eyelashes at Malfoy. "I must say it is so refreshing that there are still those who understand the importance of tradition in the Wizarding World."

"Thank you," Draco said modestly. His gaze flickered over to Hermione, who was fast approaching them. He lifted his glass up towards her and then took a sip. "Though I cannot take all the credit. It was my mother's idea, after all, and I'm afraid that Hermione here has done more to help cobble the foundation together than I have," he finished as Hermione arrived.

The blonde witch glared at Hermione from the corner of her eyes. "Hermione? Where have I heard that name before?" she pondered aloud, tapping one finger against her nose. "Ah yes! Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's _other _best friend, the one who isn't famous. How pleasant it is to meet you." The evil grin she shot off all but demanded that Hermione leave.

"Isn't it?" Hermione replied, trying not to sneer but failing miserably. "So sorry, but I'm afraid you have the advantage as I don't recognize you." She waved a hand and sighed mightily. "I meet so many people that it's hard to remember every hanger-on."

The other witch's eyes narrowed as she huffed in indignation. "Well then there isn't much point in introducing myself if you're incapable of remembering my name afterwards," she sniped back.

"Now, now," said Draco, interrupting the catfight, "Elena here was talking about donating to our foundation, perhaps even setting up an annual contribution."

The other witch smirked. "Ah yes. I would be happy to contribute to such a noble cause, but I hardly think that one of your mother's balls is the best place to hammer our all the details. Shall we meet for lunch this week to work out all the minutiae?" The blasted witch breathed deeply, putting her assets on display to Draco, and pursed her lips together in a seductive pout.

Hermione went for her wand, intent on hexing the slag out of the ballroom and Draco's life. Draco, however, proved to be quicker with his Seeker's instincts coming to the fore. He grabbed on to Hermione's hands before she could reach her wand. "My apologies," he said. Though he was speaking to Elena, his eyes were on Hermione. "But I'm afraid that I have a prior engagement." Then he lifted Hermione's left hand to his lips and kissed it, tilting it to one side so that her engagement ring was in plain sight. A sharp gasp registered out of Elena, and she quickly beat a retreat.

"Finally," Draco said once the witch had departed. "I had been trying to get out of her clutches for ages. You could have rescued me earlier, you know."

"You hardly seem the type to need rescuing," Hermione retorted. "And might I ask what happened to your idea to keep our engagement a secret so the news of it doesn't overshadow the foundation?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders elegantly. "I said we would not formally announce it, not that we would keep it secret. There is a difference, my love. Undoubtedly Elena will go back to her friends and start spreading rumors, but I assure you that she is not the first one to notice the Malfoy engagement ring on your finger tonight."

His lips twitched into a frown as he glared at someone behind her. "And of course, it doesn't help that there are gossip hounds everywhere," he grunted. "A bit more privacy appears to be in order." He took her by the arm and led her out to the balcony. He cast a charm to ward off eavesdropper and then continued. "The way I see it we might as well let the rumors stew for awhile before confirming it a month or so later."

Hermione gasped. "A month?" To her ears, that sounded far too soon.

Draco frowned at her distress. "Is that too long? I suppose we could push it to two weeks. Actually that might not be a bad idea after all for Mother will certainly be leaning on us to announce it as soon as possible." He nodded his head happily. "Two weeks it is then. Not unless you can't wait that long," he added, grinning at her in that boyish manner of his that she found so charming.

He looked so excited at the prospect that Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him that she wanted to wait longer. Although she knew he was the only one for her, it still seemed to her that they were rushing things. She wanted to take things slow and get to know her mate before having to deal with all the pomp and circumstance that came with a wedding.

_Oh well. We're getting married sooner or later so it might as well be sooner,_ she decided. _It's not like I won't have the rest of my life to get to know him. And I suppose there are some benefits to getting married quickly. For one, my friends won't keep asking me if I'm really serious about him. For another, we won't have to deal with all the gossip rags speculating as to when we'll break up._

"Is everything all right, dear?" asked Draco.

"Huh?" Hermione was startled by the question.

"It's just that you're so quiet tonight. You're not like your usual talkative self."

"Sorry," she said. "Was just lost in my thoughts, that's all. Everything is changing so fast that it's sometimes hard to believe that this is all real."

"That's not the first time you've said that, now is it?" Draco noted with a serious mien. He took a step towards her and brushed his lips against hers before enveloping her in a crushing embrace. "Let me assure you, my lovely nymph, that this is real," he said softly. "You are not going to wake up, and I most certainly won't change my mind. I promise you that you won't have to worry again about whose going to protect your dear forest as I'll do every thing in my power to keep it and you safe."

Hermione shivered despite herself. Somehow those words sounded ominous to her. What if she didn't want what Draco thought she needed?

* * *

**Author's note: **Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.


	14. Chapter 13

**Fated: Chapter Thirteen**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

"All things considered, last night didn't go off badly at all," Narcissa said with a congratulatory tone. It was the next day, and Narcissa had invited both Hermione and Draco to her sitting room so they could have a talk. Neither of them had really felt like going, but Draco had pointed out that they did have to convene to figure out how much support they had drummed out for the foundation the night before. Thus the two of them had somehow summoned the strength to get out of bed and left to go meet with his mother. Hermione stifled a yawn as Narcissa continued to gab on. She didn't know how the older witch managed to have so much more energy than either of them.

_That's probably because she wasn't busy all night_, a wicked voice whispered in Hermione's head. Hermione blushed and shook her head furiously, trying not to think of how she had all but ravished her mate last night.

Narcissa sighed happily and clasped her hands together girlishly. "And you know what that means." A large grin spread out across her lips, and she suddenly resembled a cat who had got into the cream.

"Oh no," Hermione muttered under her breath. This didn't look good. The squeeze Draco gave her hand didn't do much to calm her fears although it was comforting all the same.

Her fears were confirmed a moment later when Narcissa said, "That means it's time that we start planning for your wedding, of course."

"What?" Hermione spluttered. "But we haven't…that is…I thought we agreed not to say anything about Draco and I for now, much less start planning our…our wedding so that way we wouldn't take the focus off of the foundation."

"Oh that," replied Narcissa with a careless wave of her hand. "I know perfectly well Draco suggested that because you don't care for being in the spotlight."

"That wasn't it," Hermione protested. While it was true she had never sought to be the center of attention, she wasn't opposed to the idea, especially if it meant that she would be able to do some good by making people listen to her and all.

"Is that so?" Narcissa tilted her head to one side. "I had assumed that it was just an excuse, seeing how you were wearing your engagement ring openly the entire evening. You have no idea how many people offered me congratulations or," and here the elegant witch rolled her eyes extravagantly, "how many idiots thought to give me their condolences."

"Be that as it may, I assure you, Mother dear, our reason for not announcing our engagement wasn't merely an excuse," Draco said. He shifted forward in his seat but held on to Hermione's hand. "I, for one, would much rather focus our energies on ensuring that the foundation prospers, and I am positive that Hermione feels the same." Hermione nodded her head vigorously, backing up her mate's statement.

"Yes, well, you're certainly capable of doing that on your own, Draco," Narcissa noted, "which leaves Hermione free to help me plan your wedding. And don't even think of saying that it's too soon to start. It's not too soon. If anything, it's rather late, seeing how it is taking place next month."

This time Hermione had no words to counter Narcissa's assertion. Fortunately she had her mate by her side to counteract his mother.

Draco narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils. "Nice try," he said tightly. "But I am well aware of the old tactic of asking for too much to get what you want. We are not having the wedding in a month, nor are we having it in three months, which is what you were plotting all along." He glanced sideways over at Hermione. "A year or two sounds right, I think," he added. He winked at her, and it was then she knew that Draco remembered her words of the night before, about how everything was changing too fast. Hermione smiled wanly back at him, relieved that not only had he remembered but that he cared.

"A year or two?" Narcissa's cry could only be called a screech, and her jaw briefly hung open from shock. Then the older witch composed herself. "Don't be ridiculous," she told her son sharply. "Honestly, Draco, you will never become a master of negotiation if you always start off by asking for the impossible."

"I fail to see why a long engagement is impossible. Besides I would have thought you would be overjoyed to have more time to plan your only child's wedding," Hermione said reasonably.

Narcissa's gaze switched over to her, and Hermione was taken aback by the frigid glare sent her way. The older witch was practically livid, but Hermione didn't know just what had set her off. "Indeed I would have been, under different circumstances," Narcissa said in clipped tones. "But the way things are, I refuse to let my grandchildren be born out of wedlock."

This time it was Hermione's jaw that became unhinged. Narcissa's accusation was the last thing she had expected. "What?" she cried. "You can't possibly think that—"

"Oh? Has it not occurred to you?" Her gaze shifted back and forth between her son and the dryad. "Perhaps not if you were preoccupied with other things. But that possibility has not failed to escape my attention, especially when I know the two of you haven't been sleeping in past noon."

"Mother!" Draco's tone was scandalized, and when Hermione looked at him, she saw that he was as red as she was.

His mother shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "What? We're all practically family here, and so there's no need for me to beat around the bush, particularly not when the two of you are being difficult about setting your wedding date in a reasonable manner."

"Hermione's not pregnant!" Draco cried.

"Oh? Have you asked her?" his mother asked archly.

"I'm not." Hermione quickly backed up her mate. Though she hadn't even considered the possibility that she might have become pregnant, she thought that she would have sensed something if she were. _That's being silly_, her logical side pointed out. _Thinking that you can sense when a new life takes root within you just because you're a dryad and all. That's being as silly as Ginny thinking she's barren without bothering to see a Healer first._

The look Narcissa was giving her implied that the older witch didn't quite believe her but was too polite to challenge her at the moment."Maybe not now, but you have to admit that it will happen, and sooner rather than later, seeing how contraceptive charms tend to not to work for dryads."

Hermione bit her tongue. She had forgotten about that. Now it made sense just why Narcissa wanted to see the two of them get married right away. Still Hermione wasn't about to be rushed into anything. "I am aware of that, yes," she said. "But that doesn't mean I'm pregnant now or I'll be pregnant soon. Even for dryads, it can take time."

"She's right," Draco added. "Don't worry, Mother. You'll get your grandchildren eventually. For now, however, six months sounds like a reasonable compromise to me."

His mother nodded her head. "That it does. And if the two of you do decide to push up your schedule…well I will be ready."

Hermione wisely stayed silent, knowing better than to give voice to her objections. They sounded silly even in her own head. She had longed for years for her mate to pay attention to him. Now that she had him, however, she wanted to slow things down rather than rush to make everything official between them. Perhaps it was because she was worried about her friends; Harry and Ron were always a large part of her life. She consoled herself with the thought that maybe she could relax and just be happy once she knew that they wouldn't abandon her over her mate.

Perhaps that was asking for too much, but a girl could dream. Until she told them, she would have to be satisfied with the knowledge that Draco did care enough about her to take things slow. She knew Narcissa would continue to press them, but with any luck, Draco's mother would soon be distracted by planning their wedding.

* * *

"Good morning!" Hermione called out cheerfully as she sailed through the door.

"Hermione!" Drew blinked in surprise, not noticing that the coffee he was pouring into his mug was about to overflow. Hermione clucked her tongue and took the pot away from him, not wanting him to injure himself or let any of the precious liquid go to waste.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she poured herself a cup. "Surprised to see me?" She knew that Draco had spoken to him on Friday about the foundation, but she couldn't help but wonder what else the two wizards spoke about. Though she hoped for the best, she couldn't help but fear for the worst. Her time reading Malfoy's secret stash of books had made it all too clear the role that he would likely expect her to play.

"Surprised? A little bit, I must confess," Drew answered readily. "When I spoke with young Malfoy the other day, he had indicated that he didn't know when you would be back in." A pinched look appeared on his face. "But perhaps your circumstances are best discussed in private. Let's retreat to my office…that is, after you're done making your coffee, of course."

Hermione nodded her head. She added a generous serving of milk to her cup and then picked it up to follow her boss into his office. Drew shut the door behind them and indicated that she should have a seat. Hermione did so, taking a sip of coffee to calm her sudden bout of nerves, while her boss sat down in his chair.

"So," he said, "Draco told me last Friday that the two of you were together." He looked at her appraisingly and waited for her reaction.

Which was to blush and then duck her head. "Umm…yes, that's true," she admitted. An awful thought then occurred to her. "You don't think that it's…that my being with him is unprofessional, do you?" she asked.

"Hardly," he replied with a chuckle. "He doesn't even work in our department, not that I think that matters. My dear girl, you wouldn't believe how much trouble we would be in if we tried to enforce a strict non-fraternization policy when so many people meet their significant other at work. There aren't enough witches and wizards out there. The Ministry needs to do what it can to encourage the population to…procreate, for lack of a better word. It only ever becomes an issue if one half of the couple is working under the other half or if they bring their personal squabbles in to work." He shrugged his shoulders eloquently as he finished.

"Oh," she said quietly. "So if it's not a problem then—"

"Why did I ask to see you?" Drew finished for her. He sighed and then took a long drink of coffee before he continued. "Draco indicated to me that your relationship was rather serious."

Hermione nodded her head.

Her boss lifted one eyebrow up at that response. "So serious that it will likely end in marriage," he prodded her.

Her blush returned. "Yes," she said. She glanced down at her ring. "I think it's fair to say that we will be getting married. Sooner rather than later."

"That's more or less what Draco said as well. So given that information, I can't help but wonder how much longer you'll be here with us."

She snapped to attention and sat up straight in her seat. "What? Why? Did Draco say something to you?" She went immediately on the defensive, and Drew was taken aback by her response.

"No, no, he didn't say a thing in that regards, in fact." He coughed nervously. "But Hermione, it can't have escaped your attention that his family is very traditional, to say the least. For better or for worse, that tends to limit what they view as appropriate roles for their women."

"That doesn't mean that he feels the same way," Hermione said though she didn't believe her own words. However, she wasn't about to hand in her resignation. In fact, she had no intention of doing such a thing. She hoped against hope that Draco wouldn't insist on it, but until she broached that issue with him, she would do her best not to worry about it.

* * *

Hermione retreated to her office after her conversation with Drew. She had wound up having to reassure him several more times that she had no plans of leaving the department any time soon. It was nice to know how much her work was valued by him.

Once that was done, however, she dove into her work. She tackled her more mundane tasks first in order to clear her desk of the paperwork strewn on top of it. Reviewing proposals was never very exciting, and so she preferred to get it out of the way sooner rather than later as putting off difficult tasks rarely made them easier.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Hermione sighed softly and then laid down her quill so she could reach for her wand if need be.

Then her door swung wide open and in strode Harry and Ron, their wands tightly clutched in their hands. Before she could say a word in greeting, Harry whirled around to cast a set of charms on the door that were designed not only to keep it shut but to ward eavesdroppers off. Meanwhile Ron kept a steady watch on her. There was a frown on his face as though he expected her to try and interfere with Harry. Only when Harry was finished did the two of them approach her desk cautiously.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Dramatic much?" she asked ironically.

"So far so good," Harry said to Ron. "I told you she wasn't likely to attack us on sight, no matter what sort of spell Malfoy has her under."

Hermione's other eyebrow joined her first. So not only did her boys worry that she might hex them, they were still also under the impression that she was with Draco because he had cast some sort of spell or love charm on her.

"Oy! All I said was that we had best be prepared for the worst. I doubt St. Mungo's has cures for half the hexes and curses our Hermione knows," Ron shot back. "But then again, I don't know why I ever bother to explain strategy to you, Mr. Why-Don't-We-Charge-The-Castle-Gate?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Well excuse me for liking to do things the simple way."

"Suicidal, Harry, not simple. There is a difference. Well to us normal people at least."

Despite the situation, Hermione couldn't help but smile. Some things would never change. She thought that Ron would never be able to convince Harry that frontal assaults weren't all that. Briefly she played with the idea of letting the two of them continue their ongoing argument. She knew that if she let them, they were likely to waste the entire day before remembering the reason they barged into her office.

She shook her head. Sadly that would not do. She had to tell her friends the truth eventually, and Hermione feared that she had put it off too long already. She cleared her throat to gain her friends. "I hate to interrupt you two, but I don't think you came here just to start that endless debate again," she said.

"No, we haven't at that." There was a serious look on Harry's face, and Hermione knew he was primed to take some action. A moment later, she was facing the business end of his wand. "_Finite_!"

"Feeling any better?" Ron asked, peering at her with wide blue eyes.

"Hardly, but then I was never feeling bad in the first place," Hermione said. She rolled her eyes.

"Hmm…I don't think it worked, Harry."

"Really? What was your first clue?"

"And this is why I sometimes hate working with you. Because when things don't go your way, you start to get snarky," said Ron. He sighed. "All right then. We need a more specific counter spell though it would certainly help if we knew what spell Malfoy used in the first place. Something tells me however he's not going to roll over and volunteer that information."

"How many times do I have to tell you that there's nothing wrong with me?" Hermione asked. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I know you two are worried, and I can understand why, but trust me when I say that being with Draco makes me happy."

"You only think that because he's got you under some sort of love potion or spell!" Harry shouted at her. "Once we get you back to normal—"

"But I am normal."

"That's what you think," Harry said. He then launched a barrage of counter spells at her.

"Feeling any better?" Ron asked again. "And just to be clear, better in this case means that you're ready to smash Malfoy's face in for doing what he did to you."

"No," said Hermione shortly.

Ron threw his hands up in exasperation. "All right then. I'm willing to admit that we need help. Shall we take her to St. Mungo's?" he asked looking at Harry.

"Stop talking as though I'm not here. And why won't you believe me when I tell you that everything's all right?"

"Hmm…maybe it's because you're mooning over the bastard who made our lives a misery for seven years at Hogwarts?" Harry pointed out.

"He's not the same wizard as before," Hermione said. "And it was six years, not seven."

"It would've been seven if it weren't for the likes of him," Ron said darkly.

"Exactly." Harry nodded his head decisively. "And I guess you're right, Ron. St. Mungo's it is."

"I am not going." Hermione scrunched up her face. She was just going to have to tell them now. There wasn't any other option, and besides, she had put off telling them for too long in the first place. "I'm a dryad," she blurted out.

"A what?" Harry asked. He tipped his head to one side in confusion.

"A dryad. They're a type of woodland nymph," said Ron. Two sets of eyes stared disbelievingly at him. "What? Of course, I know about dryads. _The Sleeping Dryad_ was one of my…I mean one of Ginny's favorite bedtime stories."

"_The Sleeping Dryad_?" Harry echoed. "Do I even want to know?"

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She had forgotten all about that silly rip off of a Muggle fairy tale. It had been fairly popular for a while and so of course Ron would have heard about it.

"It's this story, you see, about this dryad who frolics around and is beloved by her forest and all until one day an evil sorceress puts her to sleep by spinning a wheel at her or something. And she stays asleep until she's woken up by a kiss from her mate." Suddenly Ron's mouth dropped open and understanding crept into his eyes. "So that's it," he said softly. "You're a dryad and Malfoy….he's your mate."

Hermione looked away from him and down at her feet. "I'm afraid so."

"How long?" asked Harry.

"How long what? How long have I been a dryad or how long have I known?" Hermione sighed and proceeded to answer both questions. "All my life for the first. As for the second…well it depends. I was kind of told that I was one when I was little, but I didn't really figure it out for myself until I got to Hogwarts and learned that magic is real."

"No, not any of those," Harry said. "Not even how long have you known that Malfoy is your mate. But rather—"

"How long has Malfoy known while you kept us in the dark?" Ron finished for him, a grim look on his face. "But you know what? I find myself not really caring. It's just that…I thought we were better friends than that. I thought you trusted us." He clenched his fists. Ron turned away from Hermione, his face a mask of pain. "I guess I thought wrong."

Hermione rose to her feet, her hand stretching out to her friend but he stepped back out of her reach. "It's not like that, Ron. I didn't tell him anything. He figured it out for himself," she said, wringing her hands.

Harry pounced upon her words. "Does that mean he was the one who told you that he's your mate? Did you ever think that maybe he has somehow managed to trick you into believing that?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. I don't think that's possible."

"But that's exactly why it would be possible to fool you, because you think it can't be done."

"As much as I wish it weren't so, she's right Harry. You can't trick a dryad about her mate. Everyone knows that," Ron backed her up.

"That's what everyone believes. I still say it's worth a trip to a healer to see if she's under the influence of any potions."

"And then what? Once the healer says that there's nothing wrong with me, will you believe it then?" asked Hermione. "Look I know how hard this is to accept. That's why it's taken me so long," she couldn't help but blush, "to actually claim my mate, so to speak."

"But how do you know that? How can you be certain?"

"Because I am!"

Harry clenched his jaw. "I guess there's no convincing you then. Let's go, Ron. There's nothing else we can do here." He coldly turned away and undid the charms upon her door before walking out, without a single backwards glance.

Ron looked at her forlornly. "I…we'll talk about this later," he promised her. "I can't right now, not without shouting. But we'll talk about this later. So don't worry too much, okay?" He briskly followed Harry out the door.

Hermione slumped down in her seat. She didn't really feel like working any more, and there was no point in staying at work if she couldn't get anything done. Hermione packed up her things and then left for home.

She Apparated to her usual spot in the woods outside the manor and all but ran to the room she shared with Draco. Once there, she crawled into their bed. Curling up into a small ball, she cried herself to sleep.

It was dark already when the sound of the door opening and closing woke up her. Hermione raised her head at the sound, blinking her eyes several times to clear them of the sleep that had gathered there, and saw her mate standing by foot of their bed.

"Not feeling up to dinner?" asked Draco. He waved his wand to light the room before sitting down beside Hermione. "You've been crying," he noted with a frown on his face.

Hermione swallowed nervously as she remembered everything that had happened that afternoon. "I told them today," she said softly. His eyes softened as he grasped the meaning of her words. "Needless to say, they weren't very happy with me."

He hugged her then, uttering soothing words as he patted her head. "There, there. It's just shock, that's all. You'll see. Your friends will come around sooner rather than later."

Hermione accepted her mate's comfort. She rested her head against his shoulder and didn't hold back her tears as he continued to embrace her. All the while, however, a small voice at the back of her head was telling her that she was making the same mistake all over again—that she was just making things harder on herself by not confessing to Draco all the fears she had about their relationship and what he expected out of it.

Hermione pushed those whispers aside. It was too much to handle right now, and so she would deal with it later. One day—soon—she would take him aside and let him know how uncertain she still felt. But for now—for now she needed his support and she wasn't about to do anything to undermine it.

* * *

**Author's note: **Sorry for such a long wait. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	15. Chapter 14

**Fated: Chapter Fourteen**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

When Hermione awoke the next day, it was to an empty bed. She frowned until she saw a small note on a nearby table. She gingerly got to her feet and padded over so she could read the note. It was from Draco, of course.

_My apologies for not being here when you wake_, it read, _but I fear that I have an early board meeting that I cannot miss. If I had a choice, believe me, I would still be here with you. Take care, my love, and I will see you tonight._

Hermione bit her lower lip as she finished reading the note. For a brief instant, she doubted his words and worried that he had rushed out so he could meet with another witch. That fear didn't last long, however. He wouldn't do that to her. Besides, the two of them were now bonded together, and he couldn't do anything like that without her knowing. He simply couldn't keep secrets from her for very long, but on the flip side, the same applied to her.

She sighed to herself as she set about getting ready for the day. She brushed her teeth and flossed before getting dressed. Once she was finished, Hermione decided to skip breakfast and instead head to work directly as she hadn't been able to get through everything on her desk yesterday.

Hermione had entered the gardens to get to her usual Apparition spot when suddenly she heard someone calling her name from behind her. She turned her head and saw Narcissa Malfoy rushing towards her. With a barely perceptible sigh, she waited for the older witch to catch up to her.

"Thank Merlin I got to you before you left," Narcissa said as she came to a stop in front of Hermione. She beamed at the younger witch. "You weren't at dinner last night, and so I never got the chance to confirm with you that you would be returning to the manor early today for our regular meeting."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "We're meeting again? But the gala was last Saturday!" she cried.

"Yes, yes, and we did a splendid job, if I do say so myself," said the blonde witch. "However, now that that's over and done with, we can turn our attention to more important matters." Narcissa winked at her slyly. "Such as your wedding," she concluded.

Hermione bit her lip in order to hold back a groan. She had hoped that Narcissa wouldn't start pestering her about the wedding for a little while longer, but evidently luck wasn't with her. She searched in vain for some excuse to feed the older witch, but her dismay must have been easy to read because Narcissa spoke up before Hermione could think of any.

"And before you even suggest it, no, it is not too soon to start planning. We only have six months—at most." Narcissa sighed dramatically. "As it is, I'm worried that we'll quickly fall behind schedule even though we will use the menu that you and Draco put together as an alternate for the gala. But never fear, my dear. With the two of us working together, this wedding will be the wedding of the century."

"Ah lovely. We're aiming high. That's always a good thing," Hermione noted weakly. Inwardly she cringed as she thought about just how obsessed Narcissa appeared to be over her only son's wedding. Something told Hermione that perfect wasn't going to be good enough for the blonde witch when it came to the wedding.

It was almost enough to make Hermione Apparate over to Draco right now and insist on eloping. It was a very tempting thought, but she was a Gryffindor and so was used to being brave. "Very well then. I'll see you this afternoon," Hermione said with a nod of her head. Narcissa seemed content to let her go after that, and so Hermione wound up being not too late to work.

As always, her first stop after arriving was the break room for some coffee. It was late enough that the coffee in the pot was only lukewarm. Thankfully it was nothing a warming charm couldn't remedy. Once her cup was made, she headed towards her office, determined to get through the stack of papers on her desk.

Unfortunately for her plans to catch up, the stack of papers wasn't the only thing waiting for her in her office.

"Hello, Hermione," Ginny said pleasantly enough. "You look well enough."

Hermione repressed the urge to sigh. "Good morning to you too, Ginny," she said. "I can guess what brings you here." She shut the door behind her so they could have some privacy and then walked over to her desk.

"Well I'm glad one of us does," Ginny said. "Harry and Ron were very upset at whatever you told them last night, but when I asked what you had said, they both shut up and told me that I should speak with you."

"You mean they didn't tell you?" Hermione blinked in surprise.

"No, they didn't." Ginny sighed softly. "You should know that no matter how upset they are with you, they're not about to betray any of your secrets. Not even to me."

"Oh." Suddenly ashamed at the assumption she had made, Hermione looked down at her hands. For several long moments, nothing was said. Then Hermione blurted out, "I told them that I'm a dryad."

"Ah," said Ginny slowly. "I see." She cocked her head to one side. "That explains a lot, actually, like how you never really appeared all that interested in any of the wizards I introduced you to." Then she shot her friend a sharp look. "Did you know back when you agreed to let me play matchmaker for you that Malfoy was your mate?"

Hermione wasn't going to lie to her friends any more. "Yes, I did," she admitted. "But I thought it was a hopeless case, you see, and that if I could just find someone else I was compatible with…well I thought that would be better than always being alone."

"Except it didn't work out that way, did it? Because you were always longing for Malfoy and so you couldn't ever give another wizard a chance," Ginny said sagely. She sighed again. "I wish you had told me then. If you had, perhaps I could have helped you."

"I thought I was beyond help," Hermione muttered.

"But you weren't. For if I'm not mistaken Malfoy is just as besotted with you as you are with him, and it's not a new thing for him." Suddenly Ginny frowned. "Neville knew, didn't he? That's why he didn't make a fuss at all."

"Yes. He figured it out on his own."

"Huh. Well I suppose that's no surprise. He was always more clever than people were willing to give him credit for," Ginny said. "But that's neither here nor there. You were wrong about Malfoy, Hermione, and even you can't deny that. But you were also wrong about me."

Hermione turned a questioning look at her friend, confused at to what she was referring to.

"You didn't tell me because you thought I'd be upset…that perhaps I'd yell at you, perhaps I'd try to convince you that you were wrong. You were worried about how I and indeed about how all of us would react, right?"

Ginny rose from her seat. "Well if you had told me before you had got together with Malfoy, I wouldn't have been upset. I would have commiserated with you and done everything in my power to help you with him. But I'll never get a chance to prove that to you now, will I?" She smiled and tilted her head to one side. "But that's all right. I'm happy that you finally have your mate and that you're finally telling us all this. And I hope that if you ever have a secret like this again…I hope you will trust me not only to be your friend but to act like one too. Because, you know, you should trust the ones you love."

Just like that, Ginny made Hermione feel guiltier than Harry and Ron did last night, and all with a smile on her face. Ginny stepped around Hermione's desk to hug the other witch. "And before I forget, congratulations. I hope you're very happy with Malfoy. Merlin knows you deserve a spot of happiness in your life."

* * *

Hermione flopped herself down on the bed, utterly exhausted. She had worked herself to the bone after Ginny had left, partly because she wanted to catch up but mostly so she could push aside the feelings of guilt that kept rising up in her. Alas that hadn't left her with much energy to deal with Narcissa and wedding planning in the afternoon, and so now she was all but dead on her feet.

"You look tired," Draco noted.

"Brilliant observation," Hermione snapped. A second later, she sighed. "Sorry about that. I am exhausted. Your mother was very—"

"Ah! Say no more," Draco said. He laid down on the bed beside her. "Mother's been looking forward to my getting married for many a year. I imagine she was rather enthusiastic, for lack of a better word."

"Enthusiastic?" Hermione thought long and hard about whether that word was even appropriate in this instance. She was too tired to delve too deeply to find the perfect word, and so she wound up just shrugging her shoulders. "I suppose it works well enough."

"That bad?" Draco asked with a grimace. Hermione simply rolled her eyes yes. "Well look on the bright side. I know Mother kept you late today, but the sooner you get everything settled the better right?"

Hermione groaned out loud. "We haven't even finished deciding on the bloody invitations yet!" she wailed. She flopped over on her stomach and buried her head in a pillow. "Makes me glad I'm working and all. I'd hate to have to spend every moment of every day planning this wedding the way your mother would insist on my doing."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "So you have no plans of quitting your job any time soon, I take it."

Hermione froze. It was the perfect opening. She needed to talk to Draco about his expectations in regards to her and all, but yet she was so afraid to take that step. She couldn't help but fear that if she didn't accede to his demands, then he would do everything he could to break ties with her. She let out a shuddering gasp while her hands involuntary clenched into fists.

"Hermione? Is everything all right?" Draco's voice was full of concern.

She closed her eyes and thought back to the conversation she had with Ginny earlier that day. The younger witch had a point—Hermione needed to start trusting the people around her better. After all, Harry and Ron hadn't divulged her secret to Ginny despite the fact that they were livid over her keeping it from them while Ginny had truly seemed to be happy for her.

Hermione opened her eyes and turned over so that she was facing her mate. The worry that was etched all over her face gave her the courage to speak her mind, making her think that maybe things wouldn't turn out as bad as she feared. "Um no," she said softly. "And I think that…I think perhaps we need to talk about…well about what you think I should be doing and all. As a dryad, I mean."

Her mate raised one silver eyebrow but said nothing and instead waited for her to continue. Hermione struggled for a moment with putting her fears into words but then decided to start at the beginning.

"Your family's journals were very…illuminating," she said hesitantly.

"While that was my hope, somehow it doesn't sound like you think that's a good thing," he said with a frown. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I thought it would help. I knew about your penchant for research, and I thought learning about past dryads and how they've performed their duties…I thought that might be a bit of a comfort for you. But it's been anything but, hasn't it? Don't try and lie to me. Though you've been trying to hide it, you've been off since then and I would dearly love to know what's wrong."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "Those journals…I…." She bit her lower lip hard before lifting her eyes to his once more. "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm nothing like your ancestress. I simply wouldn't be happy if I just sat and waited and let you do everything."

"I know that," he replied. "And did we read the same book? Because I don't remember Ceola Malfoy sitting at home doing nothing. My recollection is that she would constantly be communing with her forest, learning of its ills and then seeking out cures."

"But what did she do with the rest of her time? Frolic in the forest while her husband did all the heavy lifting?" said Hermione with a disgruntled scoff.

"How would you know? Have you tried doing what she did?" Draco stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. He started to pace back and forth in front of their bed. "No, you haven't. Instead you've locked yourself up in your office, doing work that anyone could do—"

"What?" Hermione screeched. She sat straight up, eyes blazing in anger. "How dare you! I'll have you know that I pour my heart and soul into my work!"

"I know that," said Draco. "You do put your heart and soul into getting all the routine paperwork off your desk so you can go back to helping Drew with whatever new legislation that he's pushing at the moment. But there are other people who can do that. Hell, for that matter, there are other people who can help Drew close loopholes in new laws like you do."

There was a stubborn lift to Hermione's chin as she glared at her mate. "I like to think that I do the work my job requires better than anyone else could."

"Oh, I'll agree with you there. Unlike you, I'm not one to argue with obvious truths. What you're ignoring, however, is that there are some things, some functions that only you can perform and you're not doing them right now because you've decided to be stubborn about this whole thing."

"You mean speaking with the forest to see what ails it?" she bit out.

He nodded his head sharply. "Yes. Exactly."

"Althea can do that. In fact, she does that every day, seeing how trees do chatter," Hermione pointed out.

"But she can't do everything by herself," Draco replied, "and neither can you."

"That's why we have each other so we can complement one another. When she needs my help, she'll have it always, but I want to do more than that. I know what dryads limited themselves to doing traditionally, but I want to forge my own path and set higher goals and do more good."

"And where, pray tell, does that leave me?" Her mate's tone was icy. "For if I understand you correctly, it seems as though you do not want or need my help."

"That's not it at all." Hermione wrung her hands. She was expressing herself badly, and she knew it. "Of course I want your help. I need all the help I can get. But…at the same time, I don't want you doing everything for me. This is my duty, and you can't just expect me to hand it over to you and do nothing."

"Only a fool would expect that, and I assure that I am no fool, dearest." Suddenly Draco's shoulders slumped, and he sank down on to the bed beside her. He reached for her hand and patted it awkwardly. "You don't believe in making things easy for me, do you?" he asked. "But I think that I've a compromise that might just work."

Hermione squeezed his hand, signaling that she was willing to listen.

"First," said Draco, "you quit your job—"

"No," Hermione said flatly.

"What? Will you—"

"I said no. What sort of compromise is it if the first thing I agree to is quitting my job?"

"For the love of—will you please pay me the courtesy of listening to my entire proposal rather than just rejecting it out of hand?" Draco snapped.

"Well it can't be very good if I'm the one making all the sacrifices," Hermione grumbled.

"Hush!" Draco commanded. Hermione wrinkled her nose but complied.

"Now as I was saying," Draco began again, "you will hand in your resignation to Drew. Give him enough time—two weeks at least but maybe more—so he can find a good replacement. There are other wizards and witches out there interested in conservation, and Drew has never had any problems with filling your position with someone passionate."

"And after I quit? What do I do then, sit at home and frolic in the forest?" Hermione was liking the sound of this compromise less and less.

"Only if that's what you choose to do. You said you wanted to do more than what a dryad did traditionally. Forge your own path were the words you used, I believe. So after you leave your job, that's what you'll do…as the new head of the Malfoy Foundation."

He turned to her and took her other hand into his. "For it sounded like to me that you had no real plans, just a desire to do more. Fine. I can work with that. If you lead the foundation, you'll be able to choose your own role. You can work on legislation almost exclusively if that's what you desire. If you want to be more hands on and spend time not only in your forest, but in forests across the globe…well you can do that too." With a flourish, he brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them before settling back to look at her expectantly.

Hermione was at a loss for words. His offer sounded tempting. Certainly she hadn't ever expected to have the chance to do whatever it was she wanted, but she didn't like how this opportunity was just being given to her by her mate.

A sigh escaping Draco's lips brought her attention back to him. "Something tells me you're not as happy as I had hoped you would be," he said, "seeing how you've not said a thing. Trying to think of how to turn me down?"

"No," she said with an emphatic shake of her head. "No, that's not it at all. I just…I just hate having to depend on you for help. I mean, I'm grateful and all, but I think that I should be able to do everything on my own and not have to need you quite so much."

"If your duty was such that one person was enough to perform it, you wouldn't have myself nor Althea to stand beside you," he pointed out. "As things are, it's not. And if I may be perfectly frank, I think your pride is doing you a disservice in this instance."

"My pride?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes, your pride, although perhaps that's not the best word for it. This stubborn insistence of yours that you should be able to do everything…I'm sorry, darling, but it's simply not realistic. You really need to get over such ideas, because your duty to the forest is bigger than that. It's too important for you to falter just because you don't want to accept anyone's help."

"I…I'm not so—" Hermione bit her lip and fell silent. There was some truth to his words, and more than she would have liked. Her mate was right. She couldn't let her pride get in the way of accepting help from whatever quarter it happened to come from. She closed her eyes and leaned towards him. A feeling of content surrounded her as he embraced her once more.

"You're right, of course," she told him as she nestled deeper into his arms.

"Of course," he said mildly. Though she couldn't see his face, she had no doubt that there was a slight smirk on it. "So? Have you come to a decision?" he prodded her.

She opened her eyes and frowned up at him. "For a Slytherin, you're not very subtle, are you?"

"Only in my dealings with Gryffindors as I've found that trying to be subtle with them only backfires. They tend not to pick up on the finer points unless you're being absolutely blunt with them."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then said, "Yes."

"You're agreeing with me, darling? I must say I'm shocked. I never thought you would—"

Her eyes sought out the ceiling once more. "I was saying yes to your offer of heading the foundation, you idiot, and not agreeing to your rather ridiculous notions of Gryffindors. I thought that was obvious. So much for your claim that Gryffindors being slow on the uptake. Seems to me that applies more to Slytherins if you're supposed to be their best and brightest."

"So just to be clear, when you said yes, you mean that you were agreeing to resigning from your current position and—"

"Coming to work for you? Why yes, I do believe that is what I agreed to. Do try and keep up, my love," she said with a teasing smirk on her lips.

"You'll hardly be working for me," he said. "You'll be your own boss, although I fear the foundation currently doesn't have its own office space. But have no fear. I'm more than willing to sacrifice a corner of my own office so you can work out of there."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Clear out the office next door instead, otherwise I fear not much work would be getting down."

"Blast! There goes another cunning plan, absolutely dashed to pieces by my witch, who is too clever for her own good."

Hermione nuzzled against him, happy with the way things had worked out. "I love you," she said. "I hate to admit this but I…I really need you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you'll never have to find out," he said. "Don't keep your fears to yourself any more, okay? Because I promise you, no matter what may come and no matter what disagreements we might have—I shan't ever leave you."

His words erased all her doubts and fears, and for the first time, Hermione felt secure about her relationship with her mate.

* * *

**Author's note: **I think it's rather apparent this fic will be over soon. There are only two or three chapters left, one of which might be an epilogue. Still haven't decided on it yet. Anyway thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 15

**Fated: Chapter Fifteen**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione trotted up the garden path, a smile on her face. When she had given her resignation to Drew earlier that afternoon, he hadn't made a fuss at all. Instead he hadn't bat an eye and requested that she stay on for another month, rather than just two weeks, so he could spend more time finding the right person. "And if I happen to find that person earlier," he said, "then you'll be able to train your replacement." That idea made so much sense that Hermione had agreed straight away. She would wind up being busy until she left, however, for she intended to try to work for the foundation at night.

Of course, such work could only be done after her now daily meeting with Narcissa over the wedding. Hermione let out a soft sigh. She hadn't been exaggerating when she had told Draco that his mother was a bit obsessed with getting all the wedding details in order. The only thing that they had decided yesterday was the color scheme for the wedding—silver and gold—and still had to decide on the invitations, both on what they looked like and who they were sent to. Hermione had received an urgent owl from the older witch that morning, informing her that they would be having daily meetings to plan the wedding rather than just twice a week.

In the end, she supposed that was another reason why it was just as well that she had given Drew her resignation as it appeared that planning for the wedding would take up more and more of her time. If Narcissa was this edge over the wedding already, Hermione didn't even want to consider how bad the older witch would get in the months to come. She suppressed a shudder as she entered the manor.

"Ah there you are," Narcissa said, lifting her head from the list she was perusing. "I was wondering when you would get here."

Hermione lifted up one eyebrow, confused as to what Narcissa meant by that. It wasn't as though she was late. "Oh?" she said.

"I had hoped, you see, that you might get here a little early considering how much we have to do in so little time," the blonde witch explained.

"I see." Then a wicked idea occurred to Hermione—one that had the potential to make her life a little bit easier. She let out a heavy sigh and then took a seat across from Narcissa. "I must confess that worries me too," she said in a trembling voice. She wrung her hands as she continued. "I simply can't see how we can possibly get everything done in three months. I'm beginning to think that perhaps it would be best if we move the wedding back a few months."

A brief look of horror flashed across Narcissa's face, but to her credit, the older witch never lost her composure. "Hermione," she said gently, leaning forward as she spoke, "I understand how everything may seem overwhelming to you, but I assure you that between the two of us, we will have no problems in putting together the perfect wedding for you and my son in the little time we have."

Hermione frowned. It was going to take a little more pressure from her than she had originally thought. "But Narcissa, I think we need to be honest with what we're up against here," she said gloomily. "We're only fooling ourselves if we think we can get everything done at the pace we're going. For Merlin's sake, we only decided on what exact shades the invitations should be in. We still have to decide the type of paper we're going to use, what font to use, and let's not forget the actual wording of the invitation before we can start work on the guest list." Hermione sighed once more, playing up the frustration she felt for all she was worth. "It can't be done. We're going to have to move the wedding back to a year from now."

"I think you're being a bit too hasty in coming to that conclusion." Hermione glanced up at the steely tone in Narcissa's voice. Narcissa's chin was lifted in the air, determination writ large all over her face. "Let's see how far we can get this week in our wedding plans before we make such a drastic decision."

Hermione nodded her agreement, holding back the glee she felt at realizing that Narcissa had got the point. She knew from here on out that planning the wedding would become much less onerous, if only to ensure that the wedding would be held six months from now rather than twelve.

* * *

Hermione bustled about her office, cleaning up and putting everything in order. When she had given Drew her resignation, he had requested that she stay on for another month. Drew had taken his time with the hiring process and had only put out an offer the day before to a young witch only a year out of Hogwarts. Fortunately the witch had sent in a rather gushing acceptance right away, and so Hermione would be able to spend her last week training the new witch.

She paused for a moment as a sudden burst of sadness struck her. So much of her life had changed since she had claimed her mate, and this was yet another change for her to get used to. She had enjoyed her time working at the Ministry for Drew, and she had learned so much for him. She would miss her work here, but she knew that leaving would be good for her. Her mate was right; working as the head of the foundation would allow her the best chance of finding her own path as a dryad.

Hermione was startled out of her reverie by a knock on her door. "Yes?" she called out. "Come on in. The door is open."

The door swung open slowly, and a familiar head of bright red hair peeped in sheepishly. "Hello, Hermione," said Ron Weasley. "Long time no see."

She could only nod. Ron scanned the room, his eyebrows rising up as he took in her activity. "You're really cleaning up in here, aren't you?" he noted. "Well more so than usual, I mean, because you've always been neat."

"Yes," she replied. She took a deep breath and then forged on. She might as well let Ron know that she wouldn't be working for the Ministry much longer. "I thought I might as well try to put everything in order. I won't be here much longer, you see, and so I'm to start training my replacement next week."

"Training your replacement?" Then his eyes widened as he put two and two together. "You're quitting your job?" he asked aghast.

She shifted her eyes away from him. "I suppose you could say that," she said hesitantly.

Ron's shoulders slumped down. He walked forward to take a seat in a chair across from her desk. "I can't believe this. You quitting your job? For Malfoy? I never thought that you would—" He stopped there and shook his head from side to side. "You would have never done that for me," he grumbled, an accusing tone to his voice.

Words of protest immediately sprung to her lips. "I'm not doing it for him!" she said hotly. "I'm doing it for me, for my duty. You know what I am. I'm leaving my job to lead the Malfoy Foundation because that will give me the flexibility I need to protect the forests as best I can."

"But it wasn't your idea, was it?" Ron asked pointedly. "It was his, wasn't it?"

"Yes," she said, "but that doesn't mean it was a bad idea."

"No, I suppose not. Malfoy's the intelligent sort. But still…I could've never convinced you that sitting in this office all day wasn't the best use of your powers." A sad smile crossed his face. "But then I am not your mate. He is."

Ron glanced up at her. "Did you know," he said in a conversational tone, "that I had always wondered what was wrong with me? I thought I must have done something, said something that drove you away. But it wasn't that, was it? You left because you knew I wasn't the one for you."

Hermione gulped nervously but nodded her head. "I did tell you that it was me, not you," she reminded him gently.

"Hermione, every wizard knows when a witch says that she's only trying to spare his feelings." Ron threw his hands up in frustration. "So I thought that it had to be me, and that you were just trying to be kind. But it was the truth and I…I didn't know."

She winced. Back when she had broken up with Ron, Hermione had thought that the best course to take was to tell Ron that it wasn't anything he did that led to her decision. She hadn't counted on him not believing her. In retrospect, she should have anticipated such a reaction, especially as she knew how vulnerable her friend was to self-doubt. Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty for the pain she must have caused him by not being completely honest with him. There was nothing she could do to change the past, but she could at least offer her apologies. "I'm sorry," she told him. I didn't mean to—"

"I know, Hermione," he said simply, and she could tell from his tone that he had already forgiven her. "You're not the sort to be purposefully cruel to anyone, much less your friends. But I have to wonder…why didn't you tell us?"

Hermione's mouth twisted into a grimace. "I was afraid how you would react," she said. She waved her hand vaguely. "I was afraid…well that you would react the way you did."

"To the news that Malfoy is your mate, yes. But give me some credit, Hermione. You can't fool me. You must have known that you were a dryad before you knew about Malfoy. You're _Hermione_, of course you knew. So why didn't you tell us then?"

"I…well it's…." Hermione gulped nervously. It was hard for her to put into words the fear she had felt back then, and even now the memory of that fear still affected her. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, before speaking up once more. "I was already different from everyone else. You of all people know that," she said. "I didn't want to stand out any more than I already did."

"You really thought we would reject you? For being a dryad?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't know, and that was scary enough. While there were some books on dryads in the library, they all had this dry, detached tone as though a dryad was something interesting to be studied and not really a person."

"And that's one of the problems with getting all of your information out of books. You don't get the whole story," said Ron. He sighed deeply. "Frankly the dry, dusty types who spend years writing down stuff everyone knows about dryads in the dullest way possible probably would a dryad as a specimen to be prodded and examined. But if you had simply told me or maybe asked me discreetly, I would have let you know how much dryads are…well what high regard they're held in the Wizarding World."

Hermione exhaled sharply. To think, she had spent all those years worrying over nothing. "Well I didn't know that," she said. "All I had to go on was how other magical creatures are treated, and the Wizarding World doesn't have a good track record there. For all I knew, dryads could have been considered to be just a step about house elves or more dangerous than giants."

"You have a point there," Ron replied with a wince. "Still I wonder why you didn't compare them to veelas, seeing how that's the only other female magical species."

"Oh." She suddenly felt embarrassed for never making that obvious connection. Of course, the Wizarding World would treat a female magical species as being different and something to be assimilated. She couldn't believe what an idiot she had been for thinking otherwise.

"And I guess that's the sound you make when someone outsmarts you." Ron grinned at her. "I always wondered about that, but I figured I would never know."

"Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are when you're trying to be condescending?"

"Yes, I believe my best friends might have mentioned that to me once or twice." The grin on Ron's face had only grown larger. "But I guess all's well that ends well. We know now, and that's what matters." His grin faded then, and Hermione could tell he had a troubling thought.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just had a thought…that perhaps it was just as well that you never told Harry and me, seeing how we weren't always the best at keeping secrets."

Hermione wasn't sure what Ron was trying to imply and so she motioned for her friend to continue.

"Well I don't know if this is actually a law or a tradition or maybe even the Ministry being paid off by the right families…but in the past, when a dryad has come from a non-magical background, the Ministry has intervened to take her away from her family and place her with…with people who understand her kind, so to speak."

"I see." Hermione hadn't known that. For a brief second, she wondered how her life would have been if she hadn't concealed what she was. Maybe things would have been easier for her; maybe she would have been placed with the Malfoys, given their lineage, and have settled down with her mate sooner.

But then again, maybe Harry would have lost the war.

There was no point in lingering over events that never happened, she decided. Her eyes flicked over to Ron's, and she could tell that he had come to the same conclusion.

"As I said, all's well that ends well," Ron muttered.

"Is that a promise?" Hermione asked, a wan smile on her face.

"You're referring to Harry? He still hasn't come around?" Ron shook his head. "He has no right to be upset with you, seeing how many secrets he kept from us during school." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and huffed. "Don't worry. If I have to, I'll drill some common sense into him, one way or another. But as for now, if you don't have any other plans, how about we go and get something to eat? We have a lot to catch up on."

"Yes, we do," she agreed. "Let's go. I'm finished here." A feeling of happiness rose in her heart as she walked down the hallway with Ron. It felt good to have reconciled with at least one of her best friends. Hopefully, with a little luck and perhaps some prodding from Ron, Harry would forgive her soon too.

* * *

**Author's note: **Sorry for the long wait between chapters, but work has been interfering with writing lately. Oh well. Thanks for reading, and hopefully the next two chapters will come sooner.


	17. Chapter 16

**Fated: Chapter Sixteen**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione shook her head as she listened to Alison prattle on. There were times when she wondered if she was ever as young as the enthusiastic witch who Drew had hired to replace her. The young witch seemed to honestly believe that all people would do the right thing once it was explained to them the harm their actions caused.

She checked a sigh and decided that she hadn't ever been that green and trusting. After all, she had fought a war back when she was younger than the witch in front of her. It was rather sad, she supposed, that Alison would eventually learn how selfish people really were, but that was the way of the world. You had to grow up sooner or later. Hermione wished Alison and her plans the best, but the dryad had a feeling that the other witch was in for a rude awakening.

"So what do you think?" Alison concluded. She blinked up at the other witch, looking for approval.

Somehow Hermione managed a smile. "I think you have your work cut out for you if you intend to implement required learning sessions like that," she said. "Drew is always open to new ideas and he's willing to give almost anything a try, but you'll have to complete your normal duties first before you can work on that," she explained.

"But at least I'll get a chance." Alison beamed widely. "That's why I'm so excited. I'm sorry. You must think I'm silly with how giddy I am, but my boss at my old job…well he didn't see any reason to try anything new."

"I see. It's amazing how hidebound some wizards can be. Thankfully Drew is not one of them. He cares more about results than tradition," Hermione said. "I have to warn you, however, that you'll probably be kept busy learning the ropes for the next few months. I doubt you'll have time for anything aside from your usual duties." Hermione knew she was repeating herself, but she didn't want to get Alison's hopes up needlessly that she would have plenty of time at the start to work on side projects.

"I understand," the other witch said, nodding her head.

Pleased that she had made her point, Hermione decided to call it a day. She had already showed Alison the basics of all her duties, and it was only Wednesday. Hermione knew she had rushed her explanations at some points. However, she really wanted to set aside some time for Alison to try and handle the job by herself while Hermione was still around to readily answer the questions that would inevitably arise. For Alison would be on her own next week as that was when Hermione would start her new job.

It was a thought that was scary and exciting at once.

Hermione shook herself out of her reverie. She let the other witch know that they were done with training for the day as she had her daily appointment with Narcissa to get to, preferably on time.

As Hermione rushed out the door, she couldn't help but reflect on how lucky she was. Not only had her mate accepted her, he also understood that she didn't want to be a traditional dryad who was stuck at home all day. What was more was how supportive Draco was of her endeavors. Then there were her friends. She was astonished at how for the most part they readily accepted the fact that she was a dryad and her mate was Draco Malfoy.

There was one outstanding exception to that, however.

She shook her head as she thought of Harry. Her other best friend had still not spoken a word to her since that evening, despite the assurances she had received from Ron and Ginny. It hurt, more than she cared to admit, that Harry seemed to still be upset over the fact that she had kept her heritage a secret from them. As Ron had pointed out, Harry himself had been fond of keeping things to himself. There wasn't much Hermione could do, however, to bridge the gap that had arisen between them if Harry wasn't even willing to listen to a word she said.

Arriving in her usual spot in the forest, she hurried inside the manor. Narcissa had told her that morning that the invitations had arrived and so they would begin to get them ready to send out today. It was a monumental task, and so Hermione wanted to get started as soon as possible.

"It's nice to see you too, my dear," a voice drawled from beside her. Whirling around, Hermione caught sight of her mate, leaning against the wall and looking all too pleased at the fact that he had managed to sneak up on her.

"Draco!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Last I checked, this is my home," he replied with a smirk.

Hermione twisted her nose. Her mate could be so impossible at times. "Stop that," she told him sharply. "You know what I meant. What are you doing here right now? Don't you have any work at the office?"

"You certainly know how to make a bloke feel wanted," was his glib answer. Hermione had to restrain herself from stomping on his foot. He may be her mate, but it was frustrating to get a straight answer out of him.

Evidently he recognized her growing ire at his refusal to answer. "You're right. I do have plenty of work on my desk. However, I've found it unwise to ignore a summons from Mother."

"She called you here?" Hermione was confused. She wondered if it was possible for Narcissa to have forgotten the plans that they had made for the afternoon, but she quickly discarded that idea as being impossible.

A heavy sigh issuing from Draco's lips brought her attention back to him. "Yes, she did. Evidently she will be insisting on my help from time to time with the wedding."

"But we're supposed to be working on the invitations today." Seeing how the invitations had been printed and the guest list was set, she didn't know what they needed Draco's input for. Frowning she said as much out loud.

"That is precisely the reason why Mother wants me here today. Given the volume of invitations that will be sent out, she is insisting that I put the good penmanship she drilled into me to good use." He paused and looked expectantly at Hermione. When she simply looked back at him, he sighed and said, "What? No cutting remark about my having handwriting like a girl?"

"That hadn't even crossed my mind," she replied. "I was just thinking that explains why your handwriting is remarkably legible. Makes for a nice change actually."

He shot her a look of disbelief. "And that's all?"

She smiled at him. "Well that, and how nice it is that we can put you to good use this afternoon. I have to admit that I wasn't looking forward to just the two of us handling all those invitations." She shuddered. "The guest list we finally agreed on is anything but short."

"It's rather the opposite of that, I expect," said Draco. "But considering how long Mother has waited to plan this wedding, that's no surprise. Shall we get going? As I fear that keeping Mother waiting isn't a good idea." He held out a hand to her, and she latched on to it. She happily snuggled against her mate as he led the way through the manor.

"Ah good! You're both here," Narcissa said as they entered her sitting room. There were three stacks of invitations on the desk before her, each topped with its own scroll. "As you see, I've divided our guest list into three parts," she said with a wave of her hand, "according to who is closest to each guest."

"That makes sense. You're as organized as ever, I see," noted Draco. Hermione had to agree with him. Narcissa's organizational skills put her own to shame.

"Of course," his mother replied with a smile. "What ever would you do without me, Draco?"

"I don't know. Have a much smaller wedding perhaps?" he replied.

Hermione swatted him on the arm. "I can't believe you just said that to your mother," she said. "How has she put up with you all these years?"

"I'll tell you the secret for dealing with him later, my dear," Narcissa said. "If your children to turn out to be anything like him, you'll need it. That and a lot of patience."

"It's a good thing I've had practice then," Hermione replied. She squeezed her mate's hand to take away any bite to her words.

It turned out, however, that he didn't need such comfort. "Whatever you say, my dear," he bantered back. "Although I suppose I'm at a disadvantage here. It's unfortunate that your friends are less than fond of me because I can't ask them for tips on how to handle you."

She rolled her eyes. "You say that as though you expect them to be of any help."

"Well I've always been the optimistic sort," he told her.

"All right, that's enough, children. You'll have time to play later," Narcissa chided them gently. "These invitations aren't going to take care of themselves."

"More's the pity," Draco muttered, and Hermione found herself agreeing with that sentiment. Nevertheless the two of them each stepped forward to take their stack. Narcissa shooed them out, telling them to work in the study next door as she needed privacy so she could concentrate.

As they entered the room, Hermione thought about sharing a desk with her mate for a moment but decided against that. Knowing Draco, he would ensure that she wouldn't be able to get too much work done by trying his best to be a distraction. She wouldn't say as much out loud, but she didn't have much of a defense against her mate. So it was she wound up retreating to a corner desk away from him.

Hermione turned her attention to the list Narcissa had given her. She opened the roll of parchment, intending to skim it quickly. However, the first name on it gave her pause.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked her. She looked up at him, guilt roiling her stomach. She hadn't thought that her distress was so strong that he would feel it too.

She shook her head. She saw no reason to burden him with her insecurities if she could avoid it. "It's—"

"Don't say nothing, darling, because I know it isn't," he told her softly.

She checked a sigh. "No, I suppose I can't say it's nothing," she said, "but at the same time…." She wrinkled her nose in frustration, not sure how to articulate all her conflicting emotions.

"Who is it for?" Draco asked. "No, wait. Scratch that. There's only one name that would make you that upset, and that's Potter's."

Hermione winced at his words. It was terrible thing to say, but alas it was true. Seeing the name of her best friend heading her list had upset her as he was still acting as though she didn't exist. She hated feeling that way. She should have been able to count on her friend's unwavering support, but because of how badly she had mangled things, she was beginning to think that he would never speak to her again.

"You're right. The Potters are the first on my list."

"I see. Given your current…difficulties, you could always send it to your friend Ginny directly," he suggested.

It was a tempting suggestion, but one she didn't want to take. "I'm a Gryffindor. I'm not supposed to take the easy way out," she reminded him. She bit her lip as she considered her options. If she just sent the invitation away, then she ran the risk of Harry simply casting _Incendio_ on it in a fit of fury. "This one I think I'll deliver in person," she said, deciding that was the best option open to her.

Her mate raised an eyebrow but didn't voice the many doubts she could feel racing through his mind. "If that's what you think is best, darling. If you need any help—"

"You'll be the first to know," she assured him. The two exchanged smiles before getting back to work.

* * *

Hermione shuffled nervously in front of the door to her friends' house. It seemed like it was ages ago that she first knocked. Seeing how she was still waiting for it to open, she was beginning to think that perhaps she should knock again. It wasn't as though she was all that anxious to talk to Harry—on the contrary, she would prefer not to seeing how he was still upset with her. However, she knew that putting it off wouldn't make things better.

_Although perhaps I could use another day to think about what to say...but no. I've had enough time to figure that out_, she reminded herself. _Not that I managed to prepare anything. Getting it over with is best. And with any luck, Ginny will be here in case I need an intervention._

The door in front of her swung open, startling her from her thoughts. A pair of bright green eyes met hers, and she gulped nervously. "Hello, Harry," she said in greeting.

"Hello," he replied, just as awkwardly. They stood there for several moments staring at each other, neither one saying a word.

"Who's at the door, Harry?" asked Ginny as she trotted up behind her husband. She peered over his shoulder. "Oh Hermione!" she exclaimed as her eyes widened and her face broke out into a smile. "Come on in," she said. She pushed her husband aside with a swing of her hips and a not so subtle glare.

"It's good to see you," Hermione said, stepping inside. She glanced quickly at Harry but found that she still couldn't read his expression. "I didn't mean to intrude. If you're busy…well I just came here to drop off this, that's all." She extended the invitation to Ginny.

"Ah! Our invite to your wedding. I was wondering when we would get it." Ginny shot another glare at her husband. "As it was, I was in the kitchen finishing with dinner. Would you like to stay? Of course you would," Ginny answered for her before Hermione could get a word in edgewise. "Harry can entertain you in the living room while I finish. I'll walk the two of you there."

Ginny latched on to Hermione's arm and began tugging her along, not bothering to check and see if her husband was following the two of them. Hermione finally found her tongue. "Are you sure you have enough?" Hermione asked. "It's not as if you were expecting me and I didn't mean to just barge in on your dinner."

"Don't be silly," was Ginny's airy reply. "You don't need a formal invitation to drop by for dinner. Besides Harry's been meaning to talk to you, but he's just been putting it off. I know that he has lots to say to you." The redheaded witch patted Hermione on the arm gently as they arrived in the living room. "Very well then. I guess I'd best be leaving you two so you can talk. Dinner will be ready in a few." With that, she turned to exit the room and head towards the kitchen. As Ginny passed Harry, she sharply jabbed him in the side with her elbow, all but commanding him to behave.

An awkward silence fell over the two friends after Ginny left. Hermione didn't know quite what to say to Harry. It was obvious that he was still upset with her, but somehow she didn't think that an apology would make things any better. However she had to say something. Hermione very much appreciated Ginny giving her this chance to clear things up with Harry, and she couldn't very well let it pass without trying to make things right.

"So I guess you're still sore," she said hesitantly, "about my keeping secrets and all. I don't know what to say." She caught herself wringing her hands and forced herself to stop. "I am sorry. You've got to understand that. I mean…obviously I should have told you sooner. It was a mistake not to, but there isn't anything I can do to change the past. I know I keep apologizing and it's not enough but help me out here because I don't know what else to—"

"Hermione," Harry said, interrupting her rambling, "I…I'm not angry at you. The truth is I haven't been, not for awhile."

Hermione tilted her head, blinking her eyes as she examined her friend. "You're not? Then why have you been avoiding me?" she asked.

"Because I was bloody embarrassed, that's why," he blurted out. "I figured it out straight away how stupid I was to be angry for you keeping secrets back then. I mean I did pretty much the same thing…and then for me to go off on you the way I did?" He shook his head in disgust. "I'm the one who should apologize, Hermione. I shouldn't have treated you that way, especially not after the way you always stood beside me. I'm sure you had your reasons for not telling us."

Hermione scoffed softly to herself. "Mainly that I was scared. Putting off telling you though…that only made things worse. I should have told you years ago."

"There are a lot of things all of us should have done. I can think of one time when I really ought to have listened to you," Harry said, a note of sadness tinging his voice. Hermione closed her eyes, knowing all too well what moment her friend was referring to. "All things considered, however, perhaps it was for the best that you didn't tell me. One less secret for me to worry about keeping when my mind wasn't entirely my own."

Hermione stepped forward and patted him on the back, trying to comfort him silently. To her surprise, he pulled her into a brief hug. "I'm sorry, and you're sorry," he said to her as he pulled away, his eyes gleaming bright. "So what do you say about the two of us agreeing to forgive one another and going back to being the best of friends?"

Hermione nodded once before bursting out into a smile and throwing her arms around her friend to hug him once more.

* * *

**Author's note: **It has been a long time since updates, hasn't it? Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Originally I thought this would be the end of the main plot, but it turns out that there will be one more chapter in addition to a short epilogue.


	18. Chapter 17

**Fated: Chapter Seventeen**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione found that entering her new office to be a bit intimidating. It was much larger and grander than her office at the Ministry had been, and she couldn't help but feel it was a little too much for her.

Hermione quickly got over that feeling once she caught sight of the bookshelves lining one wall. With a squeal of delight, she bounded towards them, ever so curious about what books they held.

"Trust you to go for the books before even trying out the chair," Draco drawled from behind her.

She spun around to face him. "That's funny. I seem to recall you saying that you have a meeting first thing this morning when we were at breakfast," she stated flatly.

"That I do. There's a new tenant in my building, and so I have to meet her. Have you seen her? She's a small little thing, only this high," he gestured with his hand, "but quite the spitfire, I hear."

She leveled a glare at him. "I bet you think you're clever, don't you?"

"No, darling, I don't think I'm clever. I know I am." The smug git had the cheek to smirk at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. "Honestly, Draco, you don't have to hang around, waiting on me. I know you must be busy."

"That I am. It seems that my new tenant is having trouble believing that I would personally meet her today to show her all the building's amenities."

Her eyebrows shot straight up. "Amenities? Is that what you're calling it now?" She smirked as a blush covered her mate's face.

"No, somehow, I think we're not talking about the same thing," he said slowly. He sighed mockingly and shook his head. "Your mind really is permanently stuck in the gutter, isn't it, witch of mine? Though I am definitely not complaining."

"Indeed." Hermione's smirk only broadened as she recalled how she had woken up her mate that morning. She tilted her head to one side as she seriously considered taking up Draco's offer of a personal tour. She could think of several ways to make such a tour memorable.

Unfortunately that would also mean that she probably not get any work done for the day. "You are so very distracting," she declared with a frown to her lips.

"It's not my fault," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "And I meant the part about needing to give you a tour. It's a very big building, Hermione. It's even larger than the manor, and you know how you tend to get lost there."

"That's because whoever designed Malfoy Manor did so with the intent of making the blasted place a maze."

"True enough. Last line of defense and all," Draco agreed pleasantly.

"See? So it's not my fault if I still get lost going from our bedroom to the dining room. I doubt I'll have the same trouble here. After all I managed to find my office easily enough."

Draco gave her a look. "That's because you followed me to my office."

"Of course I did. I figured that you would put my office right next to yours," she replied airily. "I was right, of course. I usually am, you know."

"Be that as it may, I think I'm going to insist here. Come on my dear. I promise I shan't keep you long." Then he stepped forward and kissed the tip of her nose, silencing her arguments. Hermione found that she had no true desire to resist spending more time with her mate, and so she allowed him to take her hand into his and show her around.

Draco was true to his word and had her back in her office within the hour. He tossed a wink and a smirk her way, telling her that she should come get him when she had enough time for the private tour, as he exited the room, timing his remark perfectly so that she wouldn't have the chance to jump him. His parting comment was enough to distract Hermione, however, and it took her some time to start concentrating on the matters at hand.

Which, after she spent some time arranging her desk to her liking, basically included Hermione figuring just what she wanted to do with all the time she had on her hands. Being her own boss was very different than working for Drew at the Ministry. At the Ministry, she had set duties she had to do every day. Now that she was free to set her schedule, she wasn't sure where to start.

Hermione let out a sigh. She folded her hands on top of her desk and then propped her chin against them. _Well I suppose I ought to meet with the foundation's attorneys some time this week, to go over our bylaws and whatnot. I will probably need board approval for some actions and so I'd best figure that out sooner rather than later. And I suppose I need to meet with our accountants as well to see how our finances look like. We'll probably need another fundraiser sooner rather than later. I think we spent a good bit of galleons last week buying that strip of land out from under Nimbus Corporation's nose._

That gave her an idea. She jumped out of her seat and paced over to her filing cabinet. It took her a couple minutes, but she pulled out a copy of the purchase agreement for that land. She perused the contract, looking for the metes and bounds of the parcel to see if there were near any landmarks she knew. Fortunately she had been to the area before back when she was working for Drew, and so she quickly determined that she could indeed Apparate there.

Arriving in the forest, Hermione was greeted by the soft murmurs of the trees. She closed her eyes and listened. Althea's range of communication was rather limited at the moment for she hadn't been in her adult form for that long, and so she wouldn't have news from this particular forest. Until Althea established her network, Hermione would have to act as her eyes and ears in distant locales.

The trees in the grove she had arrived at were all very happy to see her and as a result very chatty. While Hermione was pleased to learn that they were all in good health, one particularly helpful willow informed her that the trees along the southeast edge of the forest were feeling rather sad.

_Sad?_ Hermione thought. That was troubling as she had never heard of trees suffering from depression unless they were sick. So she set off to see those trees herself. Hermione took her time, allowing herself to meander through the forest and talk to the trees she passed by. More and more trees started to tell her about the cloud of sadness hanging over the southeast edge of the forest the closer she got to it.

Hermione could feel the difference in the forest as soon as she reached her destination. There was an aura of overall gloominess around the place. The trees here seemed rather listless, and the saplings in the area also appeared to be stunted in growth when compared to the ones elsewhere. However when Hermione asked the trees what was troubling them, they couldn't give her an answer. The closest she got was one old oak telling her that it felt as though the earth here was growing apart from the trees and so could no longer support them.

When she heard that, Hermione immediately thought to test the soil and compare it to the soil elsewhere in the forest. However when she did so, she found that no discernable difference amongst the samples. She snorted softly, chiding herself for thinking that she could solve the problem just like that. Of course figuring out what was wrong wasn't going to be _that _easy.

She would have to delve deeper here. She didn't have much in the way of materials, but she managed to transfigure some leaves in to glass jars so she could take soil samples back with her. There were more extensive tests she could run in a lab as opposed to the simple charms available here in the field.

A small frown appeared on Hermione's face. If she was going to have to run complex tests on regular basis, it would help if the foundation had a lab with all the latest equipment. She hadn't seen that in the list of the foundation's assets, which really wasn't a surprise seeing how new it was still. Hermione had a small work area at her flat that she could use for now, but she knew eventually a full-fledged lab would be needed. She would have to start working on putting one together, and she made a mental note to bring the issue up when she met with the foundation's attorneys later in the week.

But for now, she could perform the tests she needed in her own work area. She would also research the issue as she felt in her gut that there had to be some useful reference in the extensive Malfoy library regarding this situation. However her first step would be to consult with Althea that evening when she returned home to see if her tree had any insights as to what might be the root of the problem. With that plan of action set for her, Hermione Apparated back to her office.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the door to Draco's office before popping her head in. "Hello," she said. "I'm going home now, and I was wondering if you wanted us to go back together." She glanced over at the mess of papers that was currently on his desk. "But something tells me you're going to be working late tonight."

"What was your first clue?" he groused as he frowned down at his desk. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. "It's Monday, and I'm afraid they tend to be the worst days for me. It's a sort of a punishment, I believe, for my having the gall to actually take the weekend off."

"Oh?" Hermione said, tilting her head. It sounded as though there was a story there.

"That's right. You weren't here for my workaholic years."

Hermione lifted up an eyebrow at that comment. "You mean you're not one now?"

"I mean I used to be worse. A lot worse, actually. When I first started, there was so much for me to do and I didn't want to let anyone down. Wound up working myself sick in the end." Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Our healer insisted that I spend a week abed, which gave Father the opportunity to lecture me on the importance of delegation and Mother the chance to nag me about taking better care of myself. It's a long story, but in the end, I agreed to try and leave work no later than six each night and to not work on the weekends, unless of course there is a genuine emergency. I've been healthier since."

"I see," she said slowly. Hermione remembered how pale and gaunt Malfoy looked the first couple years after the war. She had been dreadfully worried for him but had assumed that he was looking poorly because of how his family's name had been dragged through the mud and all. Evidently there was more to it than just that, and she was struck by a sudden pang of guilt for her not being there for him back then.

"So are you going to be able to leave by six tonight? Or is that too much for you to handle?" she asked, waving her hand at his desk. Draco's response was to let his head thud against the desk. That was not a good sign. "I knew I should have refused the tour you offered me this morning," Hermione muttered, half to herself. "That's what set you behind."

Draco's head snapped up. "No. It didn't set me back. Trust me, I'm always a little behind schedule on Mondays, but I always make it up as the week progresses. And as for going back home with you," he suddenly flashed a brilliant smile at her, "I've been dreaming of this scenario ever since you agreed to lead the foundation. It's your first night here, and so of course I'm going with you. This will all still be here for me in the morning."

Hermione shot him a skeptical look. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked.

"I'm positive, darling." He stood up. "Besides I've had about just all I could handle today. He pushed his chair in and walked over to her. "Let's go."

"But wait? Don't you need to—"

"Clean up first?" He rolled his eyes. "Why? This way I can start where I left off tomorrow morning. We all have our quirks at work, dearest, and this is one of mine. I see no reason to waste time making everything look neat." He draped an arm around her waist and pulled her out with him. The door closed shut behind him as it was charmed to lock whenever Draco wasn't in his office.

"But I feel horrible about pulling you away from your work," Hermione protested as he led her down the hallway. "Especially as I was planning to stop and see Althea."

"Good. You should see your tree every day, you know. You need to strengthen the bond between you, and I don't want the poor tree to think that I'm intent on monopolizing your time. I can go with you… if you don't mind that is."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't." It couldn't hurt to have Draco there as Hermione figured that the more minds working on the problem the better. It turned out to be a good idea to have him there. Althea was stymied as well when Hermione told her what she had learned from the forest, but she promised to work on extending her network in hopes of reaching trees old enough to have experienced a similar situation before. Meanwhile Draco volunteered to help Hermione set up a lab, noting that he had experience getting the necessary clearances for one before. All in all, Hermione felt that it was a productive outing. It was a good start, which was all she could really ask for.

* * *

Hermione groaned softly and slumped down in her seat. Not for the first time, she felt as though she was in over her head. She was stretched very thin indeed, caught between her duties at the foundation and the nonstop wedding planning that her future mother-in-law was insisting on.

Feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to make things better though. She lifted her head up and focused once more on the document before her. She was bound and determined to get through the initial application process for a potions and charms lab for the foundation before the end of the month.

As she turned the page, the sound of her office door closing with a click distracted her. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of Draco approaching her desk. "Isn't it customary to knock first?" she asked. While she was happy to see him—as always—she couldn't help but shake the feeling she wouldn't be able to get much work done with him around to distract her.

"I did. When you didn't answer, I figured that if I wanted to get your attention it would be best for me to let myself in," he replied. "Did you forget our lunch date?" he added.

Hermione's eyes strayed over to the clock, and she gasped. She hadn't realized that it was already past noon. Half the day was done, but she still had so much unfinished work left on her desk. "I don't think I can make it," she groaned.

"Sorry, love, but I'm afraid I won't be taking no for an answer." There was a stern look on Draco's face. He ran a critical eye over her. "You are driving yourself to exhaustion, and there's no need for it—"

"No need?" Hermione drew herself up. "How can you say that there's no need?"

"I can say as much because I made certain that the foundation had adequate funds for a small staff when we first formed it." He crossed his arms and sent a smug smirk her way. "And I thought I was bad when it came to delegation! But I suppose you've never had anyone work for you, and so you're not used to being able to hand off projects to people."

"Needless to say," he continued, "I won't be taking no for an answer. Shall we go then? I would prefer for us not to be too late."

"Very well," she agreed. She could tell by the glint in his eyes that there was no point in arguing with him. He was rather like her in that regard. When he made up his mind about something, there was little anyone could do to change it. Perhaps that was the reason why he was the one for her. She needed someone who could stand up to her.

She rose from her seat and walked over to him. He took her arm and then paused. "I was going to just Apparate us there," he said, "but will you be all right? I remember the reaction you had the last time I did that."

She blushed, remembering how she had practically staggered around back. That hadn't been one of her better moments. Still somehow she felt that side-along Apparition wouldn't affect her like that again, given how she was now bonded to him. "It's fine," she muttered. "You'll be there to catch me if I fall, right?"

"Do you even have to ask?" he replied with an upwards quirk of his eyebrows. She smiled and snuggled closer to him, and a second later, he Apparated the two of them away. Hermione felt disorientated, as always, and she stumbled slightly on her feet, leaning heavily on Draco. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine." She closed her eyes briefly as she willed herself to feel better.

"Hmm…next time I think perhaps I had best arrange for a Portkey," Draco noted, a small frown gracing his face.

"No, no." Hermione shook her head. "I'm better now. It's…not as bad as it used to be," she added. That was the truth. She didn't usually recover quite so quickly—her reaction the last time Draco had taken her some where was par for the course—but right now she felt as right as rain. She squeezed his hand to reassure him. "Now don't we have an appointment to make?"

"I don't believe that I…." he started to protest.

"You did say that you didn't want us to be late, didn't you?" She rolled her eyes. "Obviously that's only because we're meeting someone," she pointed out.

"Some ones," he corrected her. "I should have known better than to try and pull one over on you. Yes, we're eating lunch with some old acquaintances of mine. They are probably all already here at my usual table." He nodded at the head waiter as he guided her past the waiting diners and into the restaurant.

Though Hermione didn't need his arm for support, she was still happy to lean on it and relish in the physical contact with her mate as slight as it was. "So is this any particular reason why you want to introduce me to your old Housemates?" she asked.

"Darling, you wound me," he replied quickly. "Are you trying to imply that I always have ulterior motives?"

"Not always, but usually," she noted. She decided not to remark upon the fact that he hadn't really answered her question. His evasion spoke for itself.

"Here we are," said Draco as he stopped by there table. Hermione glanced over at the wizards sitting there and found that she only recognized one of them, Blaise Zabini. The other wizard looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place his face.

"You remember Zabini, right?" Draco said as he pulled out her chair for her. "He was in our year at Hogwarts."

"Yes, I do," Hermione stated. She nodded at the wizard as she sat down, and he inclined his head towards her, returning the greeting. She turned towards the other wizard at the table. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for you, however," she said with an apologetic smile.

He grinned affably at her. "No surprise there. I was several years ahead of you. I'm Adrian Pucey." He looked sideways at Draco. "Good job, by the way, Malfoy. Forget to introduce the wizard that your witch probably doesn't know."

"I didn't forget," Draco said dryly. He took the seat on the right of Hermione, between her and Pucey. A thrill ran down her back as she realized that he was acting as though he was jealous though the silly man knew he had nothing to worry about. "I just don't see the point of exerting myself when I know you're the sort to take care of that yourself."

"You are all heart, Malfoy."

Zabini snorted at that. "Funny. Never heard Malfoy being accused of that before. Rather the opposite in fact."

"And I doubt you ever will again," Hermione added.

"It's called sarcasm," Pucey stated baldly. "I can understand why you might have heard of it before, Hermione, seeing how you're a Gryffindor and all but Blaise here has no excuse."

"Obviously you don't know very many Gryffindors," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "I don't think Harry could survive trying to go a day without uttering one sarcastic remark, and Merlin knows Ron is just as bad."

The waiter interrupted their conversation then to take their drink orders, but afterwards things continued much in the same lighthearted vein. Hermione learned that Zabini had registered as a solicitor with the Ministry of Magic a couple of months ago while up until recently Pucey had been a Chaser for the Magpies.

"I caught a bad break there when that last Bludger smashed into me," he said with a sad smile. "The damn mediwizard still hasn't cleared me to return…and it's beginning to look like he never will. Still haven't got back the strength I need to balance on a broom while taking a shot." He sighed deeply. "So I'm afraid I haven't been doing much of anything lately, just like Blaise here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione said. She was going to have to have a talk with Draco after lunch. It was clear that he had intended all along to use this lunch to introduce her to his friends because both were looking for work while she could use the help.

Hermione decided to grill him a couple of hours later when they returned to the office. "So you think I should hire Zabini and Pucey to work for the foundation?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

"Yes," he replied. He was completely unfazed by her bluntness, and Hermione could only admire his coolness. "I think they both have talents that you could utilize."

"Really? I suppose Zabini would be helpful with his legal training…I could certainly put him on all the paperwork the Ministry has been sending our way lately. But as for Pucey…Draco, he's a Quidditch player."

"Who knows practically everyone and is liked by all. You shouldn't discount that. I'm not quite sure where he would fit in—maybe in PR, maybe as a fundraiser—but I know that he would."

"I see," said Hermione. She bit her lip, not knowing what would be the best way to voice her other concern. Her expression, however, was promptly read by Draco.

"As for why I was suggesting you hire Slytherins…well there are two reasons. I primarily know Slytherins. I was in that House after all. Not all of us are bad—"

"Oh I know that!" Hermione said quickly.

He indicated he heard her with a wave of his hands and continued on. "I can vouch that they're both trustworthy and would support the foundation's cause. As for the second reason….well quite frankly it's hard these days for a Slytherin to find a job. It's utterly ridiculous that Zabini is still looking seeing how he is the only wizard I know who might be more cunning than me." Draco shot a stern look her way. "Though I'll deny having ever said that," he warned her.

"Of course," she said. "But you don't think I should hire only Slytherins?" she pressed him.

"No, not at all," he said emphatically. "I just thought that these two would be a good fit, seeing how they need jobs and tend to support the foundation's cause anyway. You're going to need more than just two people, but you have to start somewhere. Or rather with someone."

"I see," said Hermione. Draco had a point. She was drowning in work and could use help sooner rather than later. "Perhaps I should see if Zabini would be interested in joining us? I know we have outside counsel, but it would be a relief to have someone in-house that I could rely upon."

"I think that's a good idea," Draco agreed. "Like I said, you don't have to limit your search to who I know. I just wanted to get the ball rolling."

"I understand," she said. She smiled bashfully. "Thank you. For watching out for me."

"No thanks are necessary. I could see that you were in danger of making the same mistakes I did…and well I couldn't let that happen. Besides, I like going home with you," he said.

"Same here," she told him.

"That's good." He sighed. "I hate to say it, but I had better stop distracting you and get back to my office. I know we both have plenty of work to do." He kissed her once more and then he left with a promise to get her when it was time for them to return to the manor.

Hermione sat down at her desk. She decided the first thing she was going to do was to owl Zabini to get that over with. It took her several drafts, but she finally had an acceptable letter to send to him. Before she could lose her nerve, she sent the letter away and hoped it would be well received.

* * *

Hermione's interview with Zabini the next day went smashingly well. Although the Slytherin wizard's countenance was guarded, Hermione could tell that he was desperate for work. She made him an offer that she thought was fair, he countered, and she accepted, telling him that he would start immediately.

To her great relief, Zabini leapt upon the chance to do battle with the Ministry, as he put it, and took away her most onerous task of dealing with the Ministry and their endless paperwork. She eagerly relinquished that responsibility to him and also asked that he start to think about what sort of team he thought that they would need to support them. Hermione knew that they were going to need more than just the two of them in order to get the foundation to take off.

"I don't need time to think about what position we need to fill first," he responded. "You need to hire someone as our head researcher. Not that I doubt your skills in that arena, but there will be times that you will be too busy to deal with that. Whoever you pick should be skilled in both practical and theoretical research…a Ravenclaw would be best, I think." A crooked smile appeared on his face, more expression than Hermione had ever seen from him. "Besides I don't relish being outnumbered by Gryffindors any time soon, and you probably feel the same way."

Hermione took his advice to heart, and the next day the position of Head Researcher was advertised in the _Prophet_. There were many promising candidates, but in the end, Hermione selected Padma Patil from their year in Hogwarts based on the fact that the witch was the only other person Hermione knew to find the subject of History of Magic interesting, despite Binns' dry lecturing style.

On Padma's first day, Hermione informed the other witch of the disease currently afflicting some of the trees on the foundation's land and asked that the witch investigate the archives at the Ministry to see if there were relevant records. "That's one way to go about it," Padma agreed, "but first let me try something else. If it doesn't pan out, I'll visit the archives tomorrow."

The Ravenclaw witch went to Hogwarts that day to seek Neville's opinion, asking him what might make the earth less able to support plant life. Without blinking an eye, he said that he would first take a good look at the health of mycorrhizal fungi within the soil as they were needed by many plants to thrive. Using this suggestion to focus their research, Hermione and Padma soon uncovered the root of the problem affecting the trees on the foundation's land—a parasitic fungus that preyed not upon the trees themselves but upon their mycorrhizal partners.

While the source of the problem had been found, however, they still needed to figure out a cure. It was readily apparent that they needed more help, and so Hermione called a meeting between the three of them less than a week later.

"All right, I think it's obvious that we have to hire more people," said Hermione as she entered the room. Padma was sitting near the door while Zabini was across the table from her with his back to the wall. Sitting at the head of the table would let her between the two of them, and so that is what Hermione did.

"I was thinking we needed several more researchers to help us out," she continued. A none-too-subtle cough interrupted her before she could go any farther. "Let me guess. You have ideas about that, don't you, Zabini?" she asked.

"We need more than just researchers," he replied. "I was thinking that there are three areas we need help with—research, administrative, and fundraising."

Hermione wrinkled her brow. "I understand the why of research and administrative, but fundraising? I've not been keeping as close an eye on the books since I brought you on board, but considering how many galleons that were donated to us…."

"No, you're right. We're not going to run out of money any time soon. That being said, it's best not to spend our initial endowment. It would be better to operate off of the investment income," Zabini explained.

"The foundation is barely a few months old," Padma pointed out. "How much investment income do we have?"

Zabini inclined his head, acknowledging the Ravenclaw's point. "That is true. That's why I split our funds, investing most of it while setting the remainder aside as our operating budget. However, given our current burn rate, we will either have to cash out some of the investments made unless we find another source of funds. Hence the need for a department devoted to the cause of fundraising."

"I see," said Hermione. She arched an eyebrow. "Any ideas on who to head up that charge?"

"I can think of no better person than your future mother-in-law," was his reply. Then Zabini smirked. "Besides there will be an added benefit for you. If you keep her busy raising money for the foundation, she will have less time to harass you about the wedding."

"Somehow I can't see that happening," Hermione grumbled. She couldn't help but feel inadequate when confronted with the boundless energy Narcissa had for event planning. "I'll ask her if she would be willing to help us. Let's wait until we know whether she is on board or not before we start hiring for fundraising positions."

"That's a good idea. I imagine if she says yes then she would want to have some say in who works for her," Padma agreed.

"Indeed," said Zabini.

"Then we all agree," Hermione stated. "We will focus on figuring out what administrative and research positions we want to fill and then start the hiring process for those needs. I'll speak to Narcissa when I see her later today."

* * *

"I scheduled a fitting for your dress today," Narcissa announced when Hermione arrived at the manor.

"Another one?" Hermione asked. "We were last there only a couple weeks ago."

"Yes, and they have finished modifying your robes to the measurements that were taken then so we need to have another fitting to make sure they fit," Narcissa explained.

Hermione sighed but didn't utter another word in protest. She knew that it would do no good. Part of her suspected that Narcissa kept insisting on additional fittings in the hopes of discovering that Hermione's robes had to be let out.

That would something that would fit in with all the other tricks up Narcissa's sneaky Slytherin sleeves. That woman would stop at nothing to be the first to know about any impending grandchildren—even before Hermione, if she could manage that feat. Before Hermione had got to know the older witch, she would have thought that Narcissa would dread the thought of grandchildren as an unwelcome sign of her age. That couldn't be further than the truth though. Apparently the witch had always longed for more children after Draco but that wish never came to fruition. Because of that, her longing for another child had transformed into her desire for grandchildren. Hermione sighed once more as she thought of how spoiled her future children would be.

"If you're not feeling up to it, just say the word," Narcissa said, her voice full of concern. "I swear I've never heard you sigh as much as this before."

"Huh?"

"And you haven't been paying attention to a word I've said, have you? Are you feeling all right? If you're not, there isn't anything that I can't take care of myself."

"I'm sorry," Hermione replied. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Anything I can help you with, dear?"

Hermione's thoughts drifted over to the promise she had made to Padma and Zabini earlier that day. "Actually there is something I would like to ask you." She paused and looked hesitantly at the other witch. Narcissa motioned with her hands for Hermione to continue. She took a deep breath and then did just that. "I was talking with Zabini earlier today about the state of the foundation's finances. He mentioned that given the expenses we've been occurring that we need to start fundraising again. So I wanted to ask whether you would be willing to help lead that effort."

"Finally! I was wondering when you would ask me that. I can't count how many hints I dropped about all the free time I have." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Merlin knows that my scheduling so many meetings for the wedding should have made that obvious. But then sometimes I forget that you're a Gryffindor. Any Slytherin would have tried to divert me by bringing up that topic long before now."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's what Zabini suggested," she said.

"That doesn't surprise me. I'll have to thank the boy when I next see him. Which will be most likely soon as I understand he is currently in charge of the foundation's finances."

"So does this mean we're going to have to scale our meetings back?" Hermione asked. It was impossible to disguise the hopeful timbre to her voice.

Narcissa nodded her head and smiled. "Something tells me you're not disappointed."

"No it's not that—"

The older witch waved her excuses aside. "No apologies are needed, Hermione. I know that you have a lot on your plate. Truth be told, I was beginning to feel guilty about all our meetings. I can take care of bulk of the wedding planning by myself. I'll owl you when I need your input."

And just like that Hermione's work load was cut in half once again.

* * *

Narcissa was as good as her word. In the weeks that came, her meetings with Hermione dwindled as she revved up the fundraising machine that the foundation needed. The older witch only asked to see Hermione about the wedding for a mere half hour a week and then only to keep her updated on what decisions were made. Narcissa was truly brilliant when it came to planning events, and Hermione felt comfortable leaving the wedding in her future mother-in-law's more than capable hands.

In the meantime, Zabini managed to wrestle final approval for their research and development lab from the Ministry. While he was been busy with that, Hermione and Padma interviewed dozens on candidates for the researcher positions. Padma now had a small but dedicated team to work in the foundation's new lab, and she was looking forward to tackling the task of finding a cure.

Hermione would have liked to help out with that endeavor, but she had to move on with interviewing for other positions that they needed. Both Zabini and Narcissa had given her lists of people they needed for their respective teams. That, in turn, prompted Hermione to add one very important position to the top of the hiring list—someone to manage the human resources side of things so Hermione wouldn't have to be the one writing job descriptions and figuring out levels of compensation.

Still having the help that she did allowed Hermione to spend more time getting to know Althea. Her tree loved to hear how the forests in other parts of the country were doing, and so Hermione often took trips to fulfill her tree's curiosity. More often than not, she dragged Draco along for the ride, and her mate was slowly starting to become aware of the whispers of the trees.

Life had never been so sweet.

* * *

"Stop looking so devastated. No wedding ever goes off perfectly," Ginny declared.

"Well forgive me for being slightly panicked about my robes getting ripped." Hermione glared at her wedding robes, which had suffered a tear in the back as she was putting them on. "Thank Merlin Narcissa's off overseeing the caterers," she muttered to herself. Having to put up with the older witch's victorious smirks would have been too much.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Yes, she can be rather pushy when it comes to certain subjects, can't she?"

"That's putting it mildly. There are times that I think she could give your mother lessons on how to be overbearing."

"Don't say such things. You don't want to start an argument that will never end…particularly not between my family and your fiancé's."

Hermione winced. "No, the Weasleys and the Malfoys don't have a good track record as it is, do they? But enough of that. We're wasting time, time we don't have. What are we going to do?"

"Are you telling me you don't know a good mending charm, Hermione Granger?"

"I do, but if we just repair it, it will likely break again."

"That's why we fix it and then using an altering charm so that it will fit," Ginny said in a placating tone of voice.

"It should fit. My last fitting was last week, and it fit then! Shoddy workmanship, that's what this is."

"Yes, yes. You can give them a piece of your mind after the wedding. I'd also suggest waiting until after the honeymoon, but I know how stubborn you can be. Come on now, take the robes off. We can't mend them if they're on you."

Hermione shucked off her robes at record speed. Fixing the rent in the seams was easy enough. Altering the robes took more work. Ginny insisted on getting her measurements first, noting that they didn't really want to have to do everything twice. Hermione had rolled her eyes but had transfigured a piece of ribbon into a measuring tape, which she handed over to her friend. Ginny found out that Hermione was indeed slightly larger in some places—not by much, but enough to break the delicate stitches keeping the robes together.

"They should have been charmed to allow for expansion," Hermione said with exasperation.

"Well, yes they should have. Before you complain, might I suggest that you check and see that you requested such charms?"

"Of course I….argh! Sneaky Slytherins!" Hermione recalled that Narcissa had been the one to finalize all the details for the robes. She had been happy to let the older witch handle that task, but perhaps that had been a mistake.

"My thought exactly. But there!" Ginny brushed her hands together with a flourish. " I'm done. Pretty good work under the circumstances, if I do say so myself. Let's try them on now."

Hermione could have fainted from relief once she finally had her robes on. However once she was in them, Ginny gently pushed her into a nearby chair so she could work on Hermione's mountains of hair. The talented redhead finished just as Narcissa rejoined them to announce that it was time for the wedding to begin.

Hermione felt a jolt of shock as she stepped down the aisle. She knew full well how many people were invited, but it was one thing to see that there were over five hundred guests on parchment and another thing to be confronted with so many people all turning to look at you. There was a brief moment of terror when she was severely tempted to flee.

But then she caught sight of Draco. Her mate looked as though all his dreams were coming true. The warmth and love radiating from him led her home to his side, and all her fears and doubts were swept away.

* * *

**Author's note: **My apologies for this being so late. There's only a short epilogue left. It's currently being edited, but I will post it next week.


	19. Epilogue

**Fated: Epilogue**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione smiled down at her daughter as the two of them wound their way through the forest and to Althea. "Are you doing all right, Lyra?" she asked. "If you need me to slow down, just say so."

Her daughter shook her head from side to side. "I'm fine, Mummy," she said softly, worrying her lower lip ever so slightly and so betraying her emotions to her mother, who shared the same nervous habit.

"What's wrong, darling?" Hermione asked. She resisted the temptation to pick up her little girl, knowing that Lyra considered herself above such things now that she was all of four years old. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No, I'm not," was Lyra's reply. "It's just that…do you think your tree will like me?" she asked in a rush, the words tumbling out of her.

"I know she will, dearest." Hermione stopped in her tracks and knelt down so she could look her daughter in the eye. "Althea is very excited to be formally introduced to you. Besides it isn't as though this is the first time you've met," she reminded Lyra.

She thought back to how she and Draco had brought Lyra to Althea when she was barely a month old for Hermione had recognized her daughter as a dryad at birth. She had been over the moon when she had discovered that. She had already been excited at finally having a daughter to continue her lineage but to have her also be a dryad. Such a thing was almost unheard of.

"But Scorpius said that—"

"Never mind what your brother said. Either one of them," Hermione added as an afterthought. She made a mental note to have a talk to her sons. The two of them were overly fond of joining forces against their little sister. She saw that she would have to remind them once more not to go overboard with their teasing.

And if that didn't work, Hermione would say something to Draco. While her husband loved their sons, he positively doted on their daughter. That had worried Hermione for awhile, but then she had been reassured by her own mother and Narcissa that it was natural. Draco, having been a boy himself, was used to the ruses and tricks his sons tried to pull. Against his daughter, however, he had no such defenses.

They were close to Althea's clearing now, and so Hermione pushed those thoughts aside. She smiled as her daughter gasped as she caught sight of her tree.

"Merlin!" Lyra whispered. "I think that's the largest tree I've ever seen."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Hermione said. The years had been kind to both her and her tree, but the best was yet to come. "Come on now," she told her daughter. "Don't be shy. Althea has something to return to you." Hermione's path came full circle as she took her daughter by the hand and led her to Althea to receive the seed pendant that one day would be her own tree.

* * *

**Author's note: **And here is the epilogue, short and sweet as promised. My thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this fic.


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